


A Day in the Life

by Ardwynna



Series: Marriageverse [5]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Multi, short story collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 21,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardwynna/pseuds/Ardwynna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glimpses of ordinary life for Aeris and Sephiroth, their family and their friends. Ch. 27: Sephiroth inches towards a new stage of life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Chickabos

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of short fic from all over the marriageverse, featuring relationships, reactions, and various Incidents Which Must Never be Spoken of Again.

Cloud, with Tifa’s full approval, names their first child ‘Zack’. From the dusting of dark hair on that soft infant head, from the stubborn uplift of even those downy strands, he can tell that Zack Lockhart-Strife will have a fair enough resemblance to his namesake. It’s been so long since Cloud’s headstrong, boisterous childhood and he’s become a much quieter man, but he hopes he can raise little Zack to have something of the old Zack’s spirit. ‘Big Zack’ grins from his Lifestream perch, too pleased for words.

Tifa names the next one ‘Brodrik’. The clerk stumbles over the Old Nibel spelling. He’s much like his brother, Brody is, though Cloud likes to think the Lockhart genes have had a taming influence on the hair. The boys are close enough in age to do everything together. If the media had not already made it known otherwise, they could be taken for twins, two peas in a pod.

The pod is getting bigger, making room for a blond. Cloud and Tifa choose ‘Westyn’ by mutual agreement, and Tifa is happy though she had been hoping for a girl. There’s no time to dwell on it. With three young children in the house, a restaurant and bar to run and Denzel occasionally popping home from college, their hands are full.

When Kaydn comes along on the heels of the others, they realize they need to take steps. Tifa puts her foot down. Her body has been through enough. She wants to be able to kick a man’s tailbone into his cranium again. She misses her abs. Cloud spends two months in quiet dread and one afternoon with an ice pack on his groin. When the kids are all old enough to run, when they start recreating his battles with sticks and every high surface, he considers it the smartest thing he’s ever done. He never did like being outnumbered. It’s been years since he last glimpsed Zack Fair in the Lifestream, but Zack is there beside him all the same, promising to have his back.

After years of being the happy aunt, of bouncing the boys on her knee and ‘glowing’ away their scraped knees, Aerith gets her turn. She brings her pale daughter into the world and even Tifa has to admit, the child is cute, although the infant squirms in her arms and refuses to settle down. Maybe something of her old longing for a girl has stirred, but things are what they are. Cloud is surprised how the child quiets in his arms, content with Uncle Cloud as she is with few others.

There are more children to the mix. Aerith’s. Yuffie’s. Cid’s. Marlene has become the big sister that Aerith had been to her and Barret glows with pride at the young woman she’s become. Seventh Heaven gatherings have become family friendly, for all that they used to be a bunch of terrorists. Correction, a bunch of terrorists and one homicidal maniac, who screams ‘Stop smacking your brother’ like all the rest, has unspoken vegetable chopping contests with Tifa and sits in the corner with the cat in his lap until the cat is good and ready to leave.

They go home with plenty of cake after the Cetra twins’ birthday. They have some that night with a bottle of wine. Life is good. Until Tifa complains that her breasts are sore and that she’s suddenly tired all the time and the smell of orange juice is making her stomach turn. They stare at the blue line on the stick and wonder what happened. Seems vasectomies sometimes reverse themselves, given enough time, and Cloud always did heal up pretty well. They name the little one ‘Jessica’ and try to figure out a new plan.


	2. The News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeris and Sephiroth react to the news that Tifa and Cloud are unexpectedly expecting.

There was a very large bird outside the bedroom window. Aeris could hear the feathers rustling even over the faucet. “It’s open,” she called, mouth half full of toothpaste. She heard the papery slide of the window opening as she rinsed. She heard heavy footsteps as she patted her face dry. She had barely set the towel down when she was grabbed from behind.

“Gotcha.” Sephiroth was feeling playful tonight.

“Hold on, I’m not done,” Aeris said, leaning forward to inspect her teeth. Sephiroth held on to her angled hips and gave her a very approving growl, which she pretended to ignore. “Did you have a good match?”

“Not really.” Sephiroth splayed his fingers downward, skimming lace-edged underwear to touch bare skin. “I tossed Cloud into three buildings in the first minute, so we called it off and went to the bar for a beer. His head wasn’t in the game.”

Aeris snickered and straightened, taking in the sight of them in the mirror, her hair still loose from its nightly brushing, his tied back for combat. “Still in shock, huh?”

“And then some.” Sephiroth narrowed his eyes at her reflection and scooped her up before she could warn him to behave. She didn’t have time to cry out before she was flying to the bed. She hit it hard, and Sephiroth was on her before she could turn around.

It had been years since she had last been afraid of his strength, of his intensity and capacity for violence. Years. But sometimes she remembered the feeling. Aeris found herself pinned down beneath the mass of him, one hand trapped beneath her body, the other secured above her head with a swordsman’s merciless grip. Hair, hers and his, spilled web-like over her face. Hips thrust against the back of her thighs. She felt the pressure of a belt buckle more than anything.

“Seph,” she gasped, trying in vain to turn. One large hand slid up her side, reaching under her camisole for the fullness of a breast. She fought for breath, ribs confined beneath his greater weight. “Seph, let me up.”

“Why?” His voice, always low, rasped heavy and rough in her ear.

Aeris turned her face into the mattress. “I can’t breathe,” she said. He was off her in an instant, responding to her tone and her muffled words. Her chest expanded on its own with the lack of restraint and she lay for a few moments, caged by his arms, catching her breath.

She stretched out her trapped arm, cleared the net of hair from off her face, and turned in the bed to stare up at him. Beneath the veil of long bangs, he was watching her every move. Aeris met his eyes and recognized the pulse-beat glow within. She could feel him pressing against her thigh. “Too much energy left over?”

“Perhaps.” Sephiroth’s voice was still rough. He lowered himself to his elbows to press a warm kiss to her forehead.

“How many beers did you say you had?” Aeris asked, brushing his hair out of her face again.

Sephiroth froze. “Is it on my breath?”

“A little. It’s not bad.”

Sephiroth gave her some space all the same. Aeris took the opportunity to slide her legs out from under him, one at a time, then wrap them around his hips before he bolted for the mouthwash. She sat up, pushing against his chest as she did. He understood and obeyed, rolling onto his back with her on top.

Aeris settled down on him, feeling wetness wicking through her underwear. Sephiroth still wore his combat pants, or else she was sure he would feel it too. She rocked in place, grinding against him, seeking pressure. “You’re in a mood tonight.”

“Every night,” Sephiroth said, reaching to hold her. Long fingers slid down her waist, spreading wide to cover as much as possible. He sat up and pulled her tight against him. “Full moon’s this weekend,” he whispered, lips trailing down her neck. “You smell delicious and you’re not even ripe yet.”

“Ripe?” Aeris pushed him back down to the bed. “Do you want to screw me or eat me?”

Sephiroth looked up in earnest. “Depends. What are you in the mood for?” Aeris tried to dismount but he wouldn’t let her, using main strength to harness the motion of her body where he needed it most. “Maybe I just want to make another pretty little baby with my beautiful wife.”

Aeris stopped moving. “Seph.”

“What?” He was all innocence, which was in itself suspicious.

Aeris squeezed him with her thighs, gaining an upward tilt of his hips in response. “It’s not a contest.”

“I know, I know,” Sephiroth said, rolling his eyes. “If it was, they’d be winning.”

“Honestly, Seph.” Aeris considered letting him hang out to dry for the night, but he had gotten her all worked up too.

“It’s not a bad idea, is it?” Sephiroth asked, cupping her face. Wide-eyed innocence gave way to something softer and deeper. “I wouldn’t mind having another daughter.”

“I don’t know,” Aeris said. Dark curls spilled over her shoulders as she shook her head. Sephiroth tangled his fingers in them, trailing the ends down the front of her body.

“Don’t you think it would be nice for Ella to have a sister?” he asked.

“With this age gap?” Aeris asked. “They’d have nothing in common, and you’ve seen what Cid and Shera go through with their girls. It’s not all tutus and tea parties, you know.”

“We might have a boy,” Sephiroth said. “Seems that’s the way we run anyway.”

“Maybe,” Aeris said, mouth twisting as she considered the possibilities. “But every pregnancy is another inch on my butt.”

“I know.” Sephiroth grinned and smacked her soundly.

“Oh, is that the plan?” Aeris pouted at him. “Baking me pastries all the time isn’t enough anymore?”

“Are you objecting?” Sephiroth asked. “I thought you liked your butt. I know I do.”

“But shopping for new pants is such a chore.” Aeris pressed down on Sephiroth’s erection, gaining a pained hiss and a flare of the glow in his eyes again. Sephiroth grabbed the lace on her underwear, tugging in every direction but the right one. Aeris put one hand on his, lacing her fingers through with his to bind his hands to stillness. “Do you really want another child?”

Sephiroth stared up at her, making a study of her face. “Don’t you?”

Aeris shrugged and shifted herself further down his body, easing the pressure on both of them. “The Planet would be happy. And I guess if you keep doing all the hard stuff, I wouldn’t mind.” Her gaze paused over Sephiroth’s head and to the side, eyes trained on pillows that she did not really see.

“But…?” Sephiroth prompted.

Aeris sighed and came back to the present. She leaned forward, running her hands over Sephiroth’s shirt, tracing the muscle beneath. “We have better luck when we’re not trying, you know.”

“Hmm.” Sephiroth reached up to cup her face again, in both hands this time, brushing at imaginary tears with his thumb. He pulled her down to lie on top of him, smoothing her hair down the curve of her spine. Her legs slid along his as she stretched out atop him.

Aeris closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against his chest. For all that he had his differences, his heartbeat sounded like any other. He still moved, solid and warm beneath her, clothed as they both were. They would have to fix that soon. Aeris shifted her weight to one side, raising to her arms as he had been above her. She trailed her fingers across his forehead, tracing an ancient blessing on his skin.

Sephiroth caught her hand and kissed it. “Still up for a little ‘not trying’?” He was still hard and he let Aeris feel it.

Aeris smirked. “We can ‘not try’ all you like, if you promise not to rip my clothes this time,” she said, guiding his hands to her waist again.

A beastlike rumble rose from deep in Sephiroth’s chest. His eyes had a reflective glint in her shadow and his smile made no promises. Aeris planted both hands on his chest and pressed him flat into the mattress. He stayed there at her bidding. Aeris felt his hands sliding up her side as she worked on his troublesome belt. “Seph,” she wailed as he whipped her camisole up over her head. “I can’t see.”

“Navigate by touch, I won’t complain,” Sephiroth said, freeing her hair from spaghetti straps and lace. Aeris responded with a squeeze just where he wanted it. Sephiroth wrapped an arm tight around her waist and flipped her onto her back again, kicking his pants off as he went. Aeris lifted her hips to help him get her underwear down. He left it hanging around one ankle and sank his teeth onto her collarbone. Aeris choked off a cry, remembering that it wasn’t that late, that the kids were probably still up, and then Sephiroth had two fingers inside her and to hell with quiet.

Sephiroth paused, checking, checking, always when Aeris was on the bottom, checking. “Okay?”

“Great,” Aeris breathed, wrapping her legs around him.

“Good.” Sephiroth leaned in to kiss her. “Just so you know,” he said between kisses, “if we did have another happy little accident, I’d be more than fine with it.”

“Really?” Aeris gazed up at him. “That’s good. Now finish what you started.”

“Yes, ma’am.”


	3. Dreams and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucrecia and Vincent...

She doesn’t know how long it is between one visit and the next. She lost track of time so long ago. He comes to make an interlude in her dreaming and to ask for what she will not do. He used to sit and stare a while, and she would stare too with eyes that do not open.

He speaks to her now and there was hope in his voice at first. He tells her things have changed. He says her son is alive. Alive and doing well. He says she has a daughter now, the girl her son has married. Her son. Married. To a pretty girl, from the one account she gets.

She isn’t sure how long it is before he begins to speak of grandchildren. Her grandchildren, hers, though her skin still blooms with the look of youth and her hair refuses to grey. Just as well. He said their hair is grey enough. Such stories he brings her, funny and sad. Such perfect, well-crafted tales.

He asks her to come out now, every single time. Her refusal is to stay silent, to be still. He leaves each time in disappointment and she sheds her tears of deep regret. She cannot give him what he asks. She cannot hold on to his sweet lies. Not when he is only a momentary flash in her visions. She still sees the fire and the blood. She sees cold steel and silver hair. She sees darkness so great it blots out the stars.

Let him lie then, if it comforts him. She cannot leave. She sees the truth with eyes that do not open. She knows what she has done. Something is coming. Death awaits.


	4. Sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeris, Sephiroth and ancient secrets.

Sometimes in the dark, he would study her face. There were traces, very slight, of the human side of her, in the slant of her brow, the shape of her chin, in the darker strands of her honey brown hair. He could not blame himself for not seeing it before. She was so like her mother, like her mother’s people, ancient and eternal. He could only find her father there because now he knew to look. Sometimes he wondered if what he found was only there because he wanted it to be.

Sometimes in the night, she would reach her hand out and touch him, tracing his hairline, his nose, the slope of his jaw, sealing the unique measures of his face to tactile memory. “I used to wonder,” she would say, “why the Planet sounded happy when I lay next to you.” Once, he had asked her if she still wondered. She did not say. Cetra secrets, hers to keep. Now he only wrapped an arm around her, and his wing around them both, and felt her head against his shoulder as they fell asleep.


	5. One Kid at a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Sephiroth handles fatherhood. Or tries to.

“I’ve got the latest schematics here,” Sephiroth said, hitting the projector function on his tablet so Cloud could see. The tech specs in question warred for his attention with a desktop background that was clearly a photo from home.

“How come you’re so muddy?” Cloud asked.

“What?” Sephiroth looked up. “Oh, the pic. From when the boys were little.”

“Ah, yeah, I remember now,” Cloud said. “Those mud pie battles you used to have.” Sephiroth’s face had softened even as he scrolled to the relevant numbers. “Whatever happened to those?” Cloud asked. “Kids outgrew them?”

“No, not really,” Sephiroth said, hand hovering over the keyboard. “Ari started putting rocks in his.” He shook his head and maximized the window. “I’d have smacked him upside the head if I weren’t also kind of proud.”

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She was sitting on the edge of the roof again, the way she did when she wanted space. Sephiroth wasn’t worried about her falling, or even trying to jump, not from this height. It had never done him any harm. She did not say much, but her feelings lay in the open in other ways.

Gaia, he thought, so old already, and still too young. “Ella,” he called, “I’m coming up.” He leapt and landed like a cat behind her, soft enough to do any dancer proud. Ella nodded but did not turn. Her shoes lay beside her, pale pink satin the only color left in her new wardrobe choices of black and charcoal grey. Sephiroth sighed.

He sat down some distance away, out of arms reach, but close enough to study her hunched form from the corner of his eye. She looked like she could use a hug but she was prickly about such things these days. Softness was not weakness but people thought it was, so she hid any she had left, his little warrior.

Sephiroth charged right into the fray. “How was school?”

She shrugged. He waited. She sighed. He felt the boiling frustration on the edge of his mind, seething behind the barriers that puberty was putting between them. “They’re calling me ‘Ella the Kella’,” she said.

“That’s stupid.” The words flew out of Sephiroth’s mouth before he thought about them. “They can’t even rhyme properly.”

“That’s what Ocean said.” Ella’s voice was more animated now. A good sign.

“Well, if Ocean said so too, must be true. He knows more about high school than I do.” Sephiroth let his wing out with the pretence of stretching. A flap or two and it settled on the outskirts of Ella’s personal space like a shield. Hugs were too much sometimes but every warrior appreciated a good defence now and then.

He drummed his fingers on the roof. “I… don’t have a lot of advice on how to handle this kind of thing. Never was there myself. But I suppose…” Sephiroth considered the possibilities and got lost in thought.

“Suppose what, Dad?” Ella said, tired of waiting.

“Oh. Remind them that it’s true? I’m not sure how that would work out.”

Ella sighed, hugging one knee to her chest. “I’d probably get in trouble.”

“So?” Sephiroth shot her a smirk and edged his wing in closer. “Let the Principal call me. I’ll back you up.”

Ella’s eyes lit up from within. “Sounds like a plan,” she said, returning his smirk. People were starting to say her smile looked like his.

People said a lot of things.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Boy, why is your hair blue?”

Ari rolled his eyes. “It’s not blue,” he said. “It’s cerulean.”

“Hmm.” Sephiroth circled around. “Rei,” he called out.

“What?” Rei hollered from upstairs.

“What’s cerulean?”

“A shade of blue,” Rei answered.

“Thought so, thanks,” Sephiroth shouted back, folding his arms and fixing Ari with an expectant glare, waiting for the explanation he knew the boy didn’t have.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Sephiroth tossed and turned and finally sat up in the dark. “Somebody hates me.”

Aeris groaned, nestling further into the covers that he had thrown off. “We’re used to that.”

“No, I mean somebody seriously hates me.”

“What are you going on about?” Aeris rolled over.

“Can’t you hear it?” Sephiroth asked, eyes lighting up the night. Out in the old barn that they only used for storage, he could hear cymbals. And a snare drum. And a bass. Their latest addition to the family had a constructive way of working out the grief over his old one.

Aeris sat up and listened. It was distant and faint to her. “He’s got skills.”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” Sephiroth said, flopping backwards into his pillow.

Aeris curled an arm across his chest, molding her soft curves against his side. “You’re the one who said he could bring his drum kit.”

“I know, I know,” Sephiroth said. “But there’s an old Wutai curse about this. ‘If you hate your neighbor, buy his son a drum.’ Somebody hates me.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Boy, why is your hair green?”

“There wasn’t any red dye in the store.”

“Oh. Okay.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Sit still, Dad.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Sephiroth insisted. “Just let me get a look at it. I can fix it myself.”

Rei stood with his syringe prepped and ready. “You don’t have to. Just let me numb you up so I can straighten it before it heals all crooked.”

“Crooked toe never stopped anybody,” Sephiroth said, inching away. It was nothing, really, just a silly little accident. He had cracked a few bones before.

“It’ll make your shoes fit funny and you’ll get corns and bunions and bursitis,” Rei said, shifting to block the exits. “Now just a couple of sticks…”

“I can straighten my own toe,” Sephiroth said. “Really.” It didn’t hurt that much, no, it didn’t.

Rei sighed and set the needle down. “Okay. But Mom will laugh her ass off if you do it wrong.”

Sephiroth considered his options. Needles on one hand. Aeris constantly snickering on the other. He sighed. He shook his head and gestured to his wayward toe. “Dope me up, Doc,” he said, “and don’t tell your mother if I cry.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“What’s in this cake?” Barret demanded.

“Amaretto buttercream filling,” Sephiroth said, cutting himself another slice. “And I might have poured some liqueur over the cake.”

“Da hell,” Barret said. “That ain’t your baby girl’s birthday cake.”

Sephiroth shrugged. “She’s not a baby girl anymore.”

Barret paused, fork in his new cybernetic hand. “I guess not. Damn. Seems like just yesterday…”

Sephiroth contemplated the span of years and felt reality come crashing in. “I feel old,” he said suddenly.

Barret snorted. “You’ll get used to that.”


	6. Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barret thinks back on how he started to get used to Sephiroth.

When the silver-headed bastard came back again, Barret left most of the dealing to Cloud. Spike seemed to have a better handle on it than the first couple of times. Less moping. Less questioning. Ready to take on what needed taking on. 

‘Cept Cloud didn’t send the freak back where he came from and Aeris, of all people, was in the freak’s corner. Sort of. Then more than sort of. Kinda fucking obviously more than sort of. Barret wasn’t sure what to make of it, but Cloud didn’t have a problem with it. Tifa was sort of okay with it. Vincent, bless his fucked up head, seemed pretty okay with it. Stood with the nut at the wedding and everything. Made a guy think twice about objecting.

Barret didn’t call himself a smart man. He got by and knew what he needed to know. Maybe the others saw something he hadn’t early on. By the time the wedding rolled around he had mostly accepted that this was the way things were going to be, although Aeris had a standing invitation to call him for backup if she needed it. 

Then the cake came out. Looking back, Barret wouldn’t say the cake changed his mind, but that’s where he realized something had already begun. Four tiers high, green as the spring with flowers all over. Sephiroth rolled it out of Seventh Heaven’s kitchen himself. Sometimes Barret thought he could still feel his ears ringing from the way Aeris had squealed. 

There was the cake cutting, of course. Surprise! Strawberries inside! It really was a good cake. Barret didn’t rush for the first piece and it wasn’t because Yuffie beat him to it, he would swear. It was a wedding. He was being polite. And then he tasted it. 

He hadn’t grown up with a sweet tooth. For snacking he preferred corn chips and a cold beer. But he could appreciate cake, especially for birthdays or fucked up weddings. And that cake, that beautiful cake, that first extravagant, light, moist, flavorful cake, was easily one of the best he’d had. Better than the one Cloud and Tifa’d had at their wedding, but he kept that to himself. 

It was Cid who asked the question. “Where’d you get the cake?”

“Supermarket, mostly,” Sephiroth said.

“The supermarket’s doing wedding cakes now?” Reeve asked. He was on his third slice by then, not that Barret was counting. 

“I got the ingredients there,” Sephiroth said. He looked confused but Aeris latched onto his arm and it melted away. 

“You mean, you baked it?” Reeve’s little cat didn’t catch everything, it seemed. 

“Well, yes,” Sephiroth said. “We couldn’t find anywhere that would make the cake Aeris wanted on short notice.”

“It’s good,” Cloud said. Tifa shook her head behind him, sharing out more cake and taking empty plates as fast as they came.

“It’s more than good,” Yuffie said, stealing off her husband’s plate. “You’re baking my birthday cake. Nothing this fancy. Three tiers will do. I like chocolate.” 

“Who did the frosting?” You could always count on Cid to ask the important questions. Barret would have asked, but he was too busy chewing. 

“I did it.”

Barret still remembered the way his fork clinked when it hit the plate. “What?”

“I frosted it,” Sephiroth said.

Barret had to jump in then, even if there was still cake on his plate. “Who did the flowers?”

“I did.” Sephiroth was looking confused again. Guy could level buildings and maybe smash the Planet, but nobody looked dangerous when they were that confused. It was why people kept underestimating Cloud. 

Marlene had a flower on her plate, made out of sugar or fondue or whatever it was cake flowers were made of. “He made them. He had to use this kitchen to keep it a surprise from Aeris.”  
“There isn’t enough elbow room in the apartment to keep the cake anyway,” Sephiroth said. His happy bride was clinging to his arm.

“It’s perfect, Seph,” Aeris said, smiling bright. “Everything I wanted.” 

And Sephiroth smiled, actually smiled at her. Not even a smirk but a proper smile. It was the first time Barret felt that maybe Aeris was really going to be okay. 

There were plenty of cakes after that. Tifa’s cooking brought back memories of home and the Seventh Heaven was a gathering place, but for special occasions, you went to Sephiroth for dessert. Barret managed to get a piece most of the time. No matter how fancy, no matter how plain, he always thought of the one with the spring flowers and the strawberries and cream that a fighting man, terror of billions, taught himself to bake to make one sweet girl smile.


	7. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grandma Elmyra...

Aeris put one last lily in the vase, giving it one last touch to arrange the blooms among the backdrop of long leaves. 

“It looks fine, Maya,” Ella said, tapping her toes against the kitchen chair. 

“Maiia,” Aeris said automatically, though she was sure by now that it was a lost cause. “If the Cetran’s too hard, you could always call me ‘Mom’,” she said, tilting her head at her daughter. 

Ella rolled her eyes and went back to leafing through her magazine, all pointe shoes and tutus. “Mom,” she said, almost scoffing. “Too ordinary for this family.”

“It is not,” Aeris said, scooping up her vase and her car keys. “It’s what I called my mother. My human one.”

“Exactly. Your human one.” Ella set her magazine aside, rising to go. “You see any humans in this house?”

“Oh, I think among all of us there’s enough human blood to make one regular human being.” Aeris settled the vase against her hip and sighed. “She would have loved you kids. Your father, I’m not so sure, but she would have loved you kids.”

“Would she have baked us cookies?”

“Better than your dad’s, but don’t tell him I said that. Ready?”

Ella stretched and it was a little dance, the way it always was with her these days. She took the weight of the vase from her mother, freeing Aeris’s hands to drive. It was a rather heavy thing for its size, made to stand on a shelf in front of the niche in the columbarium. “Shame you couldn’t just plant a tree on her too.” 

“Maybe I’ll have her ashes moved one day,” Aeris said. And it wouldn’t be a tree, but more of the flowers she had loved to bring home for the woman who had taken her in, and not in a vase but planted directly in the ground to grow wild and free.


	8. Mindscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A psychic attack reveals the worst of Sephiroth. Or so he thinks.

Pain was inevitable. They could rip him to pieces if they wanted to. Torture was nothing new. The methods were different but he had been made to endure. They were in his brain, his mind, forcing memory to the fore, sifting through the pieces of him to find the one they wanted. He felt himself tied and aware of their pulsing, revolting whole. The Reunion had come for him.

They could have him. They could flay the very essence of him out of the ether, strip his mind bare, absorb it all into their hive and leave him a drooling husk as long as the boys could get away. If he could be the distraction, if he could buy them time to break free, it would be worth it. The fight was theirs to continue anyway.

The drugs in his system disordered his thoughts. Memories flitted to the surface and only by supreme effort could he remember what to hide. Images of the boys when they were children came to the fore, perspectives shared and blending from the forced closeness of their minds. Sephiroth saw Ari sit on the hot stove again, felt it as if it had been his own body that burned. He felt Rei’s quiet pride in wielding his staff. He ate blueberries. He held a little girl, bald as an egg and thin and weak, as the Lifestream claimed her. He hoped the boys did not brush up against any of his own bad days.

Their Inquisitor had no time family memories. It was strategy it wanted, and it rooted through Sephiroth’s brain with electric force, seeking his most guarded secrets. There was pain, but he was used to that. He had thought the boys would scream, but the war had toughened them too. The Inquisitor’s foreign mind delved into his, writhing inside his consciousness like a python. 

“Tell usssss.” The hiss had to be imagination, Sephiroth thought, shaking his head, distracting himself with triviality. “Tell ussss.”

He refused and felt an increased pressure inside, as if their captors were going to squeeze the information out of him. Then a sharp sensation of falling as the Inquisitor plunged deeper into his head, to the things he would not let be known, to the things even the boys weren’t supposed to know. 

“Tell usssss….”

The last door was unlocked. His secrets were theirs. He felt his lips moving of his own accord, shaping jumbled thoughts for their captors’ benefit, to his great shame. He hoped the boys would forgive his weakness. “I sniff my wife’s underwear before I put it in the wash.”

There was a pause in all movement inside his mind. The Inquisitor froze, confused. Sephiroth felt his face warming at what he had just revealed. 

“That’s not a secret, Dad.” Ari’s voice cut through the cloud of guilt.

Rei’s agreement filtered through the link. “We’ve all seen you do it.”

This nugget of family drama was too much for the Inquisitor, who couldn’t withdraw fast enough. Then the roof caved in and crushed the Inquisitor flat.

“Jailbreak,” Ocean announced as Ella angled the craft for them to jump in.


	9. Sleeping Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeris sleeps better as the small spoon but she doesn't fully remember why.

She was tossing in her sleep again. Sephiroth did not remember her being such an agitated sleeper before, in the early days. But experience wore on a body and she grew restless under stress. On nights like this, when she had a test the next morning, she could flail the covers right to the ground if he didn’t take steps. 

He rolled over and pinned her in place with one leg and both arms. “Come here,” he mumbled into her hair, pulling her against his chest. “Sleep.” She settled immediately, growing heavy in his hold. She slept better this way, with his warmth against her back and his arms tight around her. He slept well too, once he was sure she was settled. “You’ll be fine,” he said, not sure how awake she was to hear him. “You’ll ace that test.”

Aeris was half-asleep and trying to sink deeper. She heard her husband’s voice. The tone was reassuring. The word ‘test’ was not. She was too far gone to speak without effort. Sleep beckoned past a flickering haze of half-dream images. There was a test in the morning. There were always tests in the morning. But she would get through this one, just like all the others. Her mother said she would, wrapping arms tight around her against the lab’s cold sterility. She would get through that test, and the next one, and the next, and one day see the sky.


	10. Family Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and Aeris get a call from the Principal's office.

Aeris waved to her husband across the school parking lot. “Seph.” He broke into a jog and met her at the steps.

“They called you too?” he asked.

“Yeah. Sounded serious.”

Sephiroth frowned. “We’ll see.”

The usual wave of whispers preceded them down the hall. Sephiroth was used to it. Aeris still found it surprising, this one in particular for being made of such young voices. The Planet’s song had a vibrant lilt around schools most of the time, but today it hummed low and slow. It was rather ominous. 

Sephiroth recognized the signs of Aeris being lost to the song and did all the talking. People expected him to anyway. The secretary ushered them into the office where a small crowd had already gathered. He glanced at Ella, his only open acknowledgement. She had told him the situation already, but for the benefit of the Humans around, they would have to go through the motions. 

Principal Carver had his stern face on. Sephiroth had never seen the man with any other. He flicked his eyes over the crowd, taking one of the empty seats before he was bid. Aeris followed, flowing like a stream, lost in the world. 

Principal Carver cleared his throat. “General… Sir.” The non-military always stumbled over addressing him. It was difficult with just the one name. Sephiroth did not feel inclined to change that. “I assume you know why we called you here.”

“I was given a brief explanation on the phone.” Sephiroth noted Ella’s teacher, and the boy in the other corner, flanked by a prim angry pair who had to be his parents. “Might I have more detail.”

“Yes, well,” Principal Carver turned his chair to Miss Gabler, a mousy little woman who Ella rather liked. Most days.

“Ella punched Brian Hancock, Sir,” she said. “Sent him flying over a desk.”

“He doesn’t look too hurt,” Sephiroth noted. The kid was still in school, after all, not in the hospital. 

“Your daughter is a menace,” Mr. Hancock shouted. “She shouldn’t be allowed near normal children.” Mrs. Hancock said nothing to stop the man and from her face, she would not.

“Now, there’s no need to shout,” Principal Carver said. Sephiroth recalled, not for the first time, that Carver had been on the fence about accepting Ella into the school. 

Ella stayed in her seat, waiting. Her feet didn’t even touch the floor. Sephiroth sent her a wordless reassurance. Daddy was here. He would handle this. And he was proud of her for pulling her punch so well. He saw her make a slow blink at that, hiding her smile the way he had learned to hide his. 

“Ella,” he said, addressing her out loud. “You punched Brian Hancock today.”

“Yes, Sir.” She looked him straight in the eye. Ella didn’t lie. She couldn’t, not yet, at least. It was hard to lie when minds brushed, and she had already shown him the whole thing. 

“Why?”

“He kept pulling my hair,” Ella said. “He sits behind me and he pulls my hair every day.”

“Did you tell him to stop?” Going through the motions.

“Yes, Sir, but he kept doing it more, and today in arts and crafts he tried to cut a piece off with scissors.”

Sephiroth saw red. He fought the urge to summon Masamune and cut something off Brian Hancock that the boy would miss very much. “And then what?”

“I pulled my hair away and he hit me.”

“It was just a little tap,” Miss Gabler said. “No need to knock the boy over a table.”

“Did Ella tell you about this?” Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at Miss Gabler. 

“Of course, she tells me every day. I keep telling her that’s just how boys are.” 

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes at the woman. He had never been like that. Would never have dreamed of pulling hair, ever. “Ella,” he said, “is that what your teacher said>”

“She said maybe he likes me,” Ella said. Miss Gabler nodded in agreement.

“And that is no bloody reason to punch a boy,” Mr. Hancock shouted again. Mrs. Hancock grabbed his elbow and mumbled something about language. It seemed Principal Carver was in full agreement with the man though. He made no attempt to quiet the Hancocks this time. 

“Does your husband beat you, Mrs. Hancock?” All heads turned to Aeris, speaking for the first time since entering the building. 

Mrs. Hancock sputtered. “What… what kind of question is that?”

“If you think it’s okay for a boy to hit a girl because he likes her,” Aeris continued, voice firm but eyes distant, “your husband must beat you proper.”

Sephiroth leaned back in his chair. “Is that how it works? I guess I don’t love you at all.”

Aeris leaned forward, seeking a better view. “Are you hiding a black eye under that makeup?”

“I am most certainly not, you… you forest witch,” Mrs. Hancock shrieked, finding her voice. 

“I would never hit my wife.” Mr. Hancock had gone red in the face. Sweat beaded on his temples. 

Aeris glanced at Sephiroth, handing the ball back to him. “Then why is it okay for your boy to hit my daughter? And why,” Sephiroth turned his chair to Miss Gabler, “didn’t her teacher tell him to stop?” Miss Gabler had no explanation and neither, it seemed, did Principal Carver. 

“What I gather from all this, ladies and gentlemen,” Sephiroth used the term loosely, “is that you called me away from matters pertaining to the safety of all life on this Planet to complain about your own incompetence.”

“Now that is not at all what this is about,” Principal Carver began. 

Sephiroth cut him off. “Do you expect my daughter to sit quietly by while boys cut her hair off? While they assault her? If her teacher won’t help, what is she supposed to do?”

“Well… there are ways,” Principal Carver tried again. 

“Your ways aren’t good enough,” Aeris said, voice firm, eyes sharp. “Assuming you actually have any.”

Sephiroth gestured and Ella slid out of her seat. “Make no mistake, my daughter knows very well that she is not to start fights. But she has my full permission to finish them.” He took Ella by the hand and wrapped an arm around Aeris’s shoulder. “If there is a repeat of this incident, I will not hesitate to press charges against young Hancock, and the school for gross negligence.” No one made a move to stop them as they left.


	11. A Lump of Coal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The taste of home is hard to find when home's not what it was.

“Miss Wallace?” Sephiroth rose and walked around his desk into the light. “This is unexpected.”

“Uh, yes.” Even in her teens she had a tendency to be wary, especially if she had something to ask. Sephiroth spotted the note in her hand.

“Did you want me to give something to Aeris?”

“Um, no, uh…” Marlene shook her head, bangs swaying from where they were pinned on either side of her head. Her braid was still not quite as long as what Sephiroth knew she was aiming for, but she was nearly there. She held the card up. “I have a favor to ask.”

Sephiroth took the card. He knew it was a recipe from the layout, before he even read the words, handwritten in clear, careful script. “Corellian Coal Cake?” He looked at Marlene. “That’s just the name, right? Please say there’s no actual coal in it.”

Her mouth split into a smile and she laughed. “No, it’s just for how it looks. Supposedly when it’s done right, it turns out black as coal. Cloud tracked down the recipe for me last time he passed through Corel.”

“Hm.” Sephiroth scrutinized the card like it was his next mission. It probably was. “I take it there’s a reason you want me to try.”

“Dad’s birthday is coming up,” Marlene said, “and he’s asked you to bake my cake often enough. He talks about this cake every Solstice so I wanted to surprise him, but… I don’t think I’m up to it.”

“I’m honored you came to me. I’m baking nearly everyone’s cake these days. But never your father’s before. Or Vincent’s.” Sephiroth glanced down the list of ingredients, nearly a mile long as recipes went. “Soak minced fruits in cherry brandy,” he read, “for at least six weeks before baking?” He turned one of the guest chairs around and flopped himself into it.

Marlene bowed her head. “Is it too much?”

“Never.” Sephiroth looked up. “Mission accepted, Miss Wallace. I am baking this cake.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“I can’t bake this cake.” Sephiroth slumped over the kitchen island, the recipe card blurring before him.

“How come?” Aeris smacked his rump and picked the card up. “Hm. Well, it’s not your basic eggs-flour-butter recipe, that’s for sure.”

“There are currants,” Sephiroth said, “by the pound. And raisins. And golden raisins. And mixed peel. Never cared for the stuff, but I suppose it won’t matter when it’s all ground up and soaked in rum.”

“And red wine and brandy,” Aeris said, popping a raisin into her mouth. “Sounds divine.”

“Sounds like alcoholism.”

“I don’t think it counts if you’re eating it.” Aeris helped herself to another few raisins. “I’m sure it will be great.”

“I don’t even know what it’s supposed to look like,” Sephiroth said. “There are pictures on the net, but they’re all watered down versions. Nobody makes the original anymore. Too strong.”

“Too expensive, more like,” Aeris said. “You could pour half the Seventh Heaven stock in here.”

“I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing,” Sephiroth said. “I can’t find any videos, and there are no in-between pics to let me know if I’m going right.” He stood. “Do any of your relatives know about this cake? Some of them must have passed through Corel at some point.”

Aeris quirked an eyebrow at him. “You want me to dip into the Lifestream to ask Great-Grandma about a cake?” Sephiroth shrugged. “You know she’d most likely say you can figure it out on your own.”

“And call me your little boy-toy?”

“Of course. You’re basically breeding stock, what else did I marry you for?”

Sephiroth snorted. “My cooking.”

“Oh, yes, the cooking.” Aeris passed a hand down Sephiroth’s thigh. “It’s nice that you have a hobby.”

Sephiroth attempted to look put-upon but it didn’t last long. As much as he would have like to take things to the bedroom… “I need more rum,” he said. “If this is the cake that beats me, at least I’ll be able to drown my sorrows.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The cake came out of the oven a week before its due date. Sephiroth would not have allowed such a thing under ordinary circumstances, but the recipe was what it was. The house smelled like cooked fruits and warm brandy. Sephiroth lowered the cake into an airtight container, eyes on the recipe card. “That much?” he asked. Ella stared at him from her high chair and clapped her hands. Sephiroth frowned. “Can’t be healthy to have a baby around this much hooch.”

Sephiroth stared down at the cake, dark as rock, though tender and moist. If he followed the recipe right it was about to be moister still. It didn’t sound healthy, or even sane, but it was for Barret. Sephiroth exhaled hard. “Ella, hold your breath.” He opened one bottle of dark rum, one bottle of cherry brandy, and upended them both over the cake, standing back out of the splatter. “Soak for one week, it says.” Sephiroth began to feel a bit woozy off the vapors rising from the warm cake. “One week at least. Gaia help me.”

Ella clapped her hands and laughed.

-.-.-.-.-.-

“I keep telling y’all, you don’t have to trouble yourselves,” Barret protested. Marlene snapped a party hat on his head anyway. “Solstice is right around the corner. You’re making a fuss twice in a row for no reason.”

“Shaddup and drink your birthday tea,” Cid hollered. “Just cuz you’re used to having your birthday forgot doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”

“Happy birthday, Dad,” Marlene said, settling him into a chair. He didn’t protest all that much, not anymore. It was mostly for show. Marlene disappeared into the Seventh Heaven kitchen while the birthday greetings and presents piled on the table.

She came back out with her face aglow from sparklers set in a dark cake that was so damp with the drink it was almost a pudding. “Look what Sephiroth made you!”

“Sephiroth?” Barret looked around.

Sephiroth shrugged from where he stood behind his wife, trying to keep Ella from grabbing all the balloons. “Marlene asked me to.”

“Marlene, you didn’t have to trouble the man-“

“You ask him to bake my cake all the time,” Marlene said, setting the cake down.

“Is this…?” Barret looked down at the dark cake, not frosted but decorated in the center with a small ring of flowers cut out of candied red and green cherries. “Is it- Now, how am I supposed to blow this thing out?”

Everyone laughed and the sparklers eventually fizzed out. Aeris helped Marlene pull them out and Barret did the honors of sinking a knife into the dark circle. “Cuts like the real deal,” he said. “Like a good soft cheese, my Granny used to say.”

“I hope it turned out right,” Marlene whispered to Aeris. “I could never bring myself to ask Tifa for all that brandy.”

“And rum,” Aeris whispered back, “all the rum.” She hoped Sephiroth would end up baking coal cake every year. 

Sephiroth himself was rigid with anticipation, awaiting the final verdict from the one person in the whole room whose vote actually mattered. Barret pried up a tiny morsel of cake, a wedge more than a slice. Pink liquid, excess cherry brandy, smeared the gap it left behind. “Who wants first?”

“It’s your cake, Uncle B,” Denzel said.

“You sure?”

“For crying out loud, Barret,” Aeris said, “taste the damn thing before Sephiroth asphyxiates holding his breath.” Sephiroth coughed a little. Ella patted him on back of his neck.

Barret cut a crumb loose with a dessert fork that looked like a toothpick in his automated hand. He popped it in his mouth and held it there. And the whole room waited.

“Hey, is that a tear I see welling up there?” Cid said.

Barret sniffed. “So what if it is, fool?” He set the plate down and took a deep breath. Sephiroth looked away.

“It’s just like home,” Barret said. “The real deal from when I was growing up.” He was staring down at his plate, at the cake with its cherry flower. “Thank you.”

Sephiroth cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.” Marlene and Aeris squealed behind him.

“You’re making it every year now, right, Seph?”

“Don’t trouble the man,” Barret said.

“Uh… I suppose I could.” Sephiroth shifted Ella in his arms. “I make all the other cakes. You just never asked for one for yourself before.”

“He even did mine this year.” Tifa put in. “It was good.”

“And pretty,” said Cloud.

Barret shifted in his seat. “You already make Marlene’s. That’s plenty. You don’t have to go through the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” Sephiroth said. “I’d be happy to make your cake too.” He cleared his throat again. “I’d be honored.” Ella clapped. Marlene held a hand up to her for a tiny high five and got it.

Barret stared at the coal black glistening cake for a long while. “I think I’d like that.”

“Great,” Cid said. “Now pass the cake.”


	12. Barr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella tries to deal with being her parents's child.

She learns about Barr bodies in biology class. How you only need one X-chromosome up and running in a cell, and if you have a spare or two they crunch themselves up into tiny little balls and hide in the corner, unwanted and forgotten. It’s random, the textbook says, and she suddenly wants that confirmed. Her teacher asks if she’s worried she doesn’t have one but doesn’t answer her question. 

He probably doesn’t know so she looks it up on her phone, behind her textbook, in the back of the class. There’s dance after school and then she goes to the base. She has ID but doesn’t need it. The hair has always been good enough. She straps her bike to the back of her father’s car but when she reaches the elevator, instead of up she presses down.

Doc’s there, of course, overseeing his people, but he has a minute or more for her. Yes, there’s a test, he says, used to be controversial back in the day, when uses were less than ideal. He listens some more. He supposes it could be done, under the table and behind the alley. There isn’t money in genetics like there used to be in her father’s time. No money _for_ genetics. People are afraid now. There’s some sort of sense in it.

The methods are there though, so he does what he can. A cheek scraping, a blood sample, some skin flakes, a hair. She offers a biopsy but even for her there are some protocols he won’t bend. He’d need a consent form, he says, signed by a parent or guardian, and she doesn’t want them to know. They have enough to worry about and besides, there’s plenty already to work with.

She spends the ride home on her phone, typing furiously. The concentration is radiating off her, so her father does not interrupt, and he doesn’t tease either, about ‘new boyfriends’ or that singer who’s always on TV. She goes down three tangential lines of reading before they get home. She goes to bed knowing more than she needs to and nothing at all.

In the quiet of her dreams she sees herself immortalized in tile, little chips of colored porcelain precisely laid, the sandy lines between them glowing a faint green. She wakes before dawn and sneaks onto the roof. The Planet sings, in its sorry fashion, and the sky is quiet overhead. The dog runs loose and the house creaks. Insects chirp, bats swoop overhead and owls glide hungry after them. She hears the world and nothing more.

It’s a game of patience now, so she waits. There is plenty to fill the time. Training, homework, dance. Babysit while the old birds have a precious night out and bring home very full doggy bags that the dog doesn’t get. Turn in a paper. Finish an application form. Let the air out of somebody’s tires, only on one side so he thinks he drove over something sharp. Drop in at the base now and then to check in and help out a little. She’s completely unlicensed but not untrained, and the younger soldiers think it’s a hoot when she draws their blood.

She and Doc finish the job themselves, in the real basement, where the old data is stored. They fire up the old memory banks and go through the sequencing piece by piece. They’ve barely made a dent and she already knows she was right. She heads back up and goes home. Doc promises he’ll finish up. It takes another two days.

He shuts the door before he tells her, but opens the blinds so they can be seen. It’s usually random, he says. But it isn’t. She has a Barr body in every cell they checked, and she thinks she should have slashed the spare tire too for the trouble. She has a Barr body in every cell, and it is her mother’s DNA. It’s usually random, she hears the words again, but she knows what he means. Random for everyone but her.

One half of her lies dormant, inactive, as good as dead, and the voices she should have heard rising out of the Lifestream went silent long ago. She declines a ride home this time, taking her bike back off the car. It is what it is and there’s no traffic to ride into if she would even bother with such a thing. She would only get back up again and a lot of other people might not. She eats and washes up and curls up in the den with a book in her lap so nobody will question why she doesn’t join in the games. She makes sure to stare down at the book and occasionally turn a page. She’s been growing quieter as the years go by so this extra bit doesn’t raise any alarm.

In dreams a thousand black wings sprout from her shredded, bleeding back, and the world lies in flames beneath her feet. She goes to school and punctures a brake line when no one else is looking. Clean through both sides, very fine, so air can flow in and allow a slow trickle, life and safety bleeding away with each passing breath. Maybe the warning light will come on one day and everything will be fine.

Maybe not.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
**A.N.:** Ella's teacher essentially hit her with a science version of 'Not a real woman', because by his way of thinking a 'real woman' has two X-chromosomes per cell, one of which would be a Barr body. It's an obnoxious sentiment and she's already agitated at suspecting/finding out only the X-chromosome from her father is active, hence the acts of quiet vandalism. /nerdtalk


	13. Brief Nudity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth's little girl is growing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marriageverse Sephiroth owns a 'magic' lawnmower. Runs on materia and solar panels with a pre-programmed route, and capacity for course adjustments in case of obstruction. He essentially had Reeve make him a giant Roomba for grass cutting when he realized how much grass he had.

Sephiroth didn’t have the chance to sleep in often so when he got the chance for a lazy Saturday, he made the most of it. He woke close to noon, and only because the lawnmower passed right by the window. It was just as well. Aeris was long up and he could hear the boys making a ruckus outside. He stretched and yawned and took a look outside.

The lawnmower was still going strong, carving its long, winding path of concentric rings into shin-height grass and chasing shrieking little boys under the sun. Well, one of the boys wasn’t so little. Ocean was home and joining in the roughhousing, one tall blond head standing out between the twins and a fur mountain of a dog. Sephiroth gave in to an easy smile.

“Put on some pants, Dad,” Ella snapped.

Sephiroth twitched out of his skin and flattened his back against the wall. “Get off the roof, Ella.” 

“You get away from the window, you old flasher.”

“I’m away, I’m away,” Sephiroth said, stumbling around the room in search of his lost pyjama pants. The lazy morning was definitely done. He cleaned up in a frenzy, grumbling all the while. He could track the boys out in the grass, teasing the lawnmower into changing its course. Less clear was Ella’s jump from the porch roof to the main one. Her location was getting foggier of late. He tied his hair back and wondered if puberty would put that distance between all his children. 

He heard Aeris talking in the kitchen as he came down. Probably Lockhart on the screen again. “Morning, Lockhart,” he mumbled.

“Morning, Asshole,” she replied and went right back to the girl talk. 

Sephiroth tuned it out and considered his breakfast options. Eggs were always good, but it was too hot to cook. Fruit was healthy but never filling. He opened the cupboards and contemplated the cereal selection. It was a dazzling selection of every sweetener known to man. Sephiroth picked a box that that promised some sort of berry flavour. 

“Just a sec, Tif,” Aeris said, “Seph, don’t eat that.”

“Why not?” Sephiroth popped the box open. 

Aeris sighed. “You know it’s nothing but sugar.”

Sephiroth glanced down at the box. “It’s fortified with essential nutrients.” He flipped the box over to the side to study the ingredients. “Is Red Lake No.40 a vitamin or a mineral?” He realized too late he had said it out loud. He reconsidered letting the boys talk him into trying every new candied crap in the store while the ladies enjoyed their mutual eye roll.

“He does know there’s grown up cereal, right? With chocolate in it?” Tifa said.

Sephiroth perked up. “Does it come with a toy in the box?” 

“I got a disk with some sort of exercise program in my last box.”

Sephiroth’s interest faded. “Hm. This one had a wind-up chocobo,” he said, shaking the box. The chocobo in question, blue, was up on the cramped shelf above the fridge, next to the green and yellow. Black was the hardest to find and the gold was practically a myth. Sephiroth resigned himself to eating every number of Red Lake and reached for a bowl. He settled himself on the far corner of the kitchen island to let the conversation continue without him. 

He was halfway through the bowl, enjoying the unique flavour combination of purple sugar and corn product when Ella came in looking for a snack herself. They kept a full cupboard of processed sugary goodness, refined starches and artificial everything in the house, despite Aeris’s well-meaning objections. Sephiroth saw no reason his children should be deprived. 

Ella kept her stash on the highest shelf. She had grown in the last year, enough that she didn’t have to pull a chair anymore, but it was still a stretch. She reached up with the full extension developed through years of combat training, sturdy stance, long reach and lean arm muscle. The bag of fruity chews evaded her grasp. She made a small annoyed sound and turned to her other training, going fully en pointe even though she wasn’t wearing the shoes for it. 

The shoes weren’t the issue so much as her old t-shirt. Sephiroth choked on his cereal. By the time he sorted himself out she was already out the door. He made a wretched gasping sound, trying to clear his throat and his brain.

“You okay, Seph?” Aeris was looking at him. Tifa too, from the screen. Aeris folded her arms. “You sound like you’re coughing up a hairball.”

He blinked and pointed out the door. “Did you see her shirt?”

The women shared a glance across the miles. “What, Ella’s?” Aeris tilted her head to one side. “What about it?”

“It’s…” Sephiroth pawed the air, searching for words. “Short.”

Aeris and Tifa shared another look. “Didn’t look that short to me,” Tifa said. 

Aeris nodded. “It’s her old My Little Chickabo shirt, Seph. Well, one of them.”

“I’m sure she’s had it forever.”

“That’s the problem,” Sephiroth said. “She’s growing. She’s growing out of it.” Again with the look.

“No, not likely,” Aeris said. 

“No, she isn’t,” Tifa said, glancing down at herself. “I know what an outgrown shirt looks like, believe me.” 

“Not… not like that.” Sephiroth didn’t want to touch the topic with two masamunes but it couldn’t be helped. He stood up to demonstrate. “She was reaching up for the shelf and… I saw skin.” That was four looks now. 

“You gonna let a little midriff bother you?” Aeris leaned on the counter, shaking her head.

“He’s turning into one of those dads, isn’t he?” Tifa said. 

“I am not,” Sephiroth said, hoping his face hadn’t been as petulant as his tone. “It’s just, well, belly skin.”

“What about it?” They spoke in unison. Sephiroth considered himself officially spooked. 

He took a deep breath and tried to explain. “There is a minimum of natural protection in that region. Abdominal injury is less likely to cause instantaneous demise, but it can still be debilitating. Baring it practically inviting the enemy to target it.” He remembered who he was talking to. “No offense, Lockhart.”

“None taken, Asshole.” 

“You’ve got no room to talk, Seph,” Aeris reminded him, reaching for a yogurt. “Remember your old uniform?”

“A bare chest is different,” Sephiroth insisted. “There’s a whole rib cage there, and sternum. The vitals are well protected, and that’s not even mentioning the ease of deflecting a blow.”

Ella chose that moment to walk back in with her empty fruity chew bag. She sidled around the edge of the room to the trash can, leaving the grown-ups to converse unimpeded. Aeris turned. “Ella, dear, your father would like a word with you.”

Ella froze by the sink and turned in a slow pivot on one foot. She glanced at her father, looking stricken. “Is this about pants?”

“No, it’s about shirts,” Aeris said. “Yours, it would seem.” She took a small step back and left Sephiroth to his parenting. 

Ella frowned. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”

Sephiroth scraped his fingernails along the underside of the kitchen island, reminding himself not to grip the edge and give himself away. “You’ve outgrown it.”

Ella looked down at herself and snorted. “Like hell I have.”

“Not like that,” Sephiroth started and stopped himself right there. If it was awkward skirting around that issue with Aeris and Tifa…

Aeris swooped in to the rescue. “Elle, honey, what your Dad’s trying to say is he’d prefer it if you exposed cleavage more than midriff.”

Ella fixed him with a mild glare. “Very sneaky, Dad.”

“What?” Sephiroth threw his hands up in defence.

“Because I don’t have any cleavage,” Ella said, crossing her arms and inadvertently emphasizing the fact. 

Sephiroth sputtered. “That’s not what it is at all.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Ella’s fingers were already inching towards the pocket where she kept her phone. There was going to be an exasperated post on Warker about this, Sephiroth just knew it. My dad is a total biscuit. 

“It’s just you reached up for the candy and…”

“And?”

Sephiroth deflated. “There was skin,” he said, tracing a narrow band in the pertinent region.

“Oh crap.” Ella tugged her t-shirt down more. “Aw, man.”

“What’s the matter?” Tifa asked.

“Belly skin, Aunt Tifa,” Ella said, still tugging even though the t-shirt was perfectly decent when her arms were down. 

“What’s wrong with a little skin,” Tifa asked. “You’re young. Enjoy it.”

“Mmhmm,” Aeris said. “Your Aunt Tifa used to rock that look.”

“Still could,” Tifa said. 

“Still could,” Aeris confirmed. 

Ella wrapped her arms around her middle. “But the exposure. It’s all the squishy parts in there with no ribs to protect them.”

The women were silent a moment, then Aeris shook her head. “I told you, she’s his kid.”

“Obviously.”

And then it was Ella and Sephiroth’s turn to share a gaze. Sephiroth sat back down under a sudden discomfort in his chest, that sinking feeling, and a sensation of ending in his brain. It faded and dried up and he could breathe again. Ella was staring down at the cracked and faded picture on the front of her shirt. The pastel chocobos were looking pretty ragged. “I like this one.”

“Get a new one,” Sephiroth suggested.

“Seph,” Aeris said, shooting him a disapproving eye even as she moved to wrap an arm around their girl. “You don’t have to throw it out just because it doesn’t fit.” 

“Mmhmm,” Tifa put in. “I’m sure I saw something online about making cushion covers out of old t-shirts.” Ella looked downcast. “Or laptop sleeves.”

“Ooh.” Ella lifted her chin and a literal glow of interest flared in her eyes. She looked back down. “Guess it’s time to send this thing on to its second life, huh?” She picked at the old paint and pursed her lips. “I was kinda hoping I’d outgrow it the other way.” Sephiroth rose in silence and tried to edge himself out of the room. 

“Oh, sweetie,” Aeris said. “It’ll happen. These things don’t grow in overnight, you know.”

“Pfft, mine did,” Tifa said. She leaned away from the screen, sitting back with her elbows on the Seventh Heaven bar. “It’s no fun at all. There’s backaches, and stupid people, and it completely throws off your balance.” 

Ella’s quick frown matched the one Sephiroth felt on his face. Poor balance would not be good for her combat training. Or the dancing. 

Aeris tossed her daughter a fresh peach. “You just figure out what you want done with your t-shirt, and give the rest of it some time. You know my bloodline’s more hips than tits, so you’ll just have to be patient.”

“Unless…” Tifa inclined her head towards Sephiroth slinking away in the corner. 

“Sephiroth,” Aeris barked.

“Yes, Sir,” he said on reflex, then wished the doorframe was a bit closer so he could smack his head into it.

“Anything your daughter might expect from your side of the family?” Three pairs of eyes stared him down. Behind her mother and honorary aunt, Ella offered an apologetic shrug. 

Sephiroth scratched the back of his head. “I never knew my mother. Either of them. I don’t think the human one was-.” His hands stiffened just short of outlining spheres in the air. “Big.”

“Gaia,” Ella said, setting her bitten peach down on the counter. “I’m not going to grow an eyeball, am I?”

“Use a napkin,” Aeris said, sliding one over. “And I doubt you’ll grow an eyeball. Your father hasn’t. Hey, you might even get his boobs.”

“Hey,” said Sephiroth, fighting the urge to cover said boobs.

“You do have an impressive chest,” Tifa allowed.

Aeris nodded. “And coming from her you know that means something.”

Sephiroth cringed inside. “Thanks, Lockhart.”

“You’re welcome, Asshole.”

Even Ella snickered. “You have shown more cleavage than everybody else in the room.” Sephiroth stared. “What? All your old promo pics are online, you old flasher,” his daughter reminded him. “You’re not fooling anybody.”

Sephiroth felt exposed. “Well, when you’ve got it, flaunt it,” he said, and held his head up high as he walked out the door.


	14. Xanadu

So close. So. Damn. Close. 

Sephiroth wasn’t one to seek unnecessary medical attention, but this was necessary, dammit. “Put me back under, Doc.”

Dr. Delano stepped back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Sephiroth swung himself out of the bed, gripping the side as his head spun. He sat a moment, glancing down at his injury while he caught his breath. Perfectly healed, as usual. “Whatever you gave me, I could see things clearly. My mind was extra sharp. Focus like nothing I've ever had before. And then I had it. The solution to turning back this whole invasion. I had the answer.”

“Yeah, we know, Dad,” Ella said from the desk, busy playing some phone game. 

“You do?” Of course she did. Sephiroth looked at the doctor, who only shrugged. 

“You spoke in your sleep,” Delano said. “Kept saying you knew how to end the war.”

Sephiroth leaned forward. “Well?” 

“Well what?”

“Did I tell you?” Gaia, for the answer to come this way, while he was swimming in his own subconscious.

Ella sighed. “Yeah, Dad, you told us.”

The doctor cleared his throat and handed Sephiroth a notepad. “Ella wrote it down for you.”

Sephiroth snatched the notepad out of the man’s hands, flipping through to the last written page. There in the middle of the page, written large and neat and clear, was the simple solution to the Planet’s woes. 

_‘Teach the dog to read, so he fetches mission reports instead of eating them.’_

***

While there continued to be no end in sight to the onslaught from space,, personnel were quick to laud the General’s decision to eliminate the paper trail. War wasn’t nice, but at least going digital made it efficient. 


	15. Cheerleader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Support from the sidelines.

“Shit.” Lightning flashed outside. Ella got a brightened glimpse of herself in the bedroom mirror, her right side lit in stark relief for one thunderous heartbeat. Dark droplets succumbed to gravity and streaked slow trails down glass and pale skin. Thunder caught up outside. “Shit,” Ella said again. “Shit, shit, shit.”

She slid out the window and shut it behind her, letting the rain come down. Her bike was a mile down the street where she had left it, her hoodie hanging sodden over the handlebars. She hitched up her skirt, spattered and stained, slid her sword through the bike’s frame, and pedalled away on wet roads.

***

“Yes, Mom, the windows are all closed.” One hand on the chair rail, the other holding a phone, one leg extended back, perfect lines, toes of the other curling in a way most unprofessional, Zaria stopped a moment to check her form in the window’s darkened reflection. “Yes, Mom, I checked them all.” She cocked her head and her eyes glazed over. “Yes, I remember what happened last time. I promise nothing’s getting in.” She made an aborted pirouette away and made a pretend kick at a nearby vase. “Yes, yes. The carpet’s perfectly dry. I closed everything in time. Alright, see you later then.”

She turned the phone off, grumbling at it. Lightning flashed outside, accentuating every shadow of the empty house. Zaria turned to pull the drapes and saw the face outside in the dark. “Shit.”

Ella didn’t even have to ask. Zaria opened the window and stood aside to let her in. “Woman, you freaked me the fuck out.” She looked Ella up and down. “What the hell did you do?”

Ella exhaled hard. “It’ll make the news. Eventually.”

“Cool.” Zaria shut the window behind her, then leaned back and looked Ella up and down. “Girl, you’re soaked through. You’re a mess.”

Ella nodded again. “I’m trying not to drip.” A glance down revealed a soaked hemline with a rosy border than wicked steadily upwards as pink rivulets flowed down from newly dyed crimson rosettes. No water touched the floor.

“Shower for you,” Zaria said. “Come on.”

***

The water was hot and the pressure was good. It added another layer of white noise to the sound of pouring rain outside. Lightning couldn’t reach Ella in there, but there was still thunder, and a wide, clear, well-lit mirror with a dark walnut frame. She had the Before picture clearly in her mind. She would compare the After when she was done.

“You okay in there?” Zaria called. “Don’t drown yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Ella said. She heard the door open and the softened footfall of a barefoot dancer. “Have you got a scrub sponge anywhere? Like an old one to toss out. I need to get the blood out from under my nails.”

“Woman, you can have a new one.” The shower door slid open and a yellow and green kitchen sponge appeared in the steam. “Got it?”

Ella grabbed hold. “Got it.” The attached hand retreated and the door slid closed. Zaria put the lid of the toilet down and took a seat. 

“I put your tights and tutu in the wash.”

Ella spun around under the water. “Zaria!”

“Chillax, I wore gloves to handle them. I keep a box in the back of my closet now. Going to take a ton of peroxide to get all that blood out though.”

Ella resumed scrubbing her nails. “I would have washed my stuff.”

“Wash yourself,” Zaria said. Ella could make out her slender silhouette through the glass door, mottled and moving. “You looked like you stepped out of a horror movie.”

“Well, I beat the monster, if that’s the case.” Ella scrubbed harder with the green side of the sponge. One damned spot would not rub out. 

“What was it, a serial killer? Rapist?”

“Child molester.”

“Ooh, I hope he suffered.”

Ella said nothing. Zaria leaned back, stretching out to full length. She was still in her own tights and leotard. Ella wondered if she had ruined hers. 

“You didn’t get blood in your eyes, did you? I mean, I know you never get sick, but there’s some nasty bugs out there.”

“I don’t get diseases, Ree,” Ella said, “My family technically is a disease, remember?”

Zaria scoffed. “Says nobody important, Alien lady. By the way, your shoes are kaput. At least it wasn’t your new pointe pair.”

“Hey, I have more sense than that,” Ella said. “Besides, they’re not as good for sneaking up on a guy. Is there a towel I could use?”

“Right over the shower stall, I got you.”

Ella reached out blindly through the steam and found the tail end of a thick, fluffy blue towel. “This is nice.”

“Of course it is. You want me put your skirt in the dryer or are you staying over?”

Ella stepped out, wrapping herself in midnight blue. Zaria had another matching towel in her hand. “One more for all the hair. Come on, I know it takes effort to keep water from dripping.” 

Ella grinned and took the towel, bending over to wrap her head. “You sure your mother won’t mind me using the good towels.”

Zaria shrugged. “They’re for guests and you are one. Don’t worry about it, she’s too concerned with looking perfect to kick a fuss to your face.” 

A musical chime sounded from somewhere deep in the large, old house. “I think the laundry’s done,” Ella said.

“Is it?” Zaria cocked her head. Fine hairs were coming loose from their bun to lie against her neck. “Damn, you heard the washing machine from up here?”

Ella blew a raspberry. “I hear everything, you know that.”

They made their way down to the laundry room in the basement, traversing the kitchen floor in the same precise pas de deux they were doing at the Academy that week. 

“You make a good prince,” Zaria said, swinging the washer door open.

“Eh, it’s just my height.”

“And the muscle. None of the guys can lift so well.”

Ella shrugged. “Alien lady biology.”

“Share a little, why don’t you,” Zaria said, pulling out the skirt. Together they held it up against the light and examined it for stains. 

“Looks okay,” Ella said. “I was worried we’d need the bleach.”

“Lucky thing it was the romantic skirt,” Zaria said. “Can’t shove a pancake in the washing machine. You couldn’t have stripped down before you iced that guy?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Ella said, leaning back against the tub. “You know how it is, we get the call, do the job. I wasn’t going to let that creep slip the net again.”

Zaria whistled and began to strip off her own leotard. “One of these days I want to help.”

Ella felt all the chill of the soaking rain. “I dunno, Zaria.”

“What? At least let me help hide the body. Where did you put this one?”

“I left him to bloat,” Ella said. 

“Ooh, indignity as well as insult.” Zaria grinned. “Justice is served.”

A message had been served as well, but Ella held her tongue. Zaria was in too deep already. 

“Hey, by the way, there are your shoes.” Zaria nodded at a sad pair of ballet shoes, damp and polka-dotted, lying on a spread garbage bag. “Told you, they’re all fucked up.”

Ella snorted. “Shoes tell you about their owner.” Zaria shoved her and laughed.

“But really, what are we going to do about them?”

“They’re canvas, they’ll wash. Maybe.” Ella took a deep breath. “Maybe I’ll just have them dyed deep red.”

“That might save some time,” Zaria said. “Wanna try the bleach first though? If we completely ruin them we get to go shoe shopping!” She waggled her eyebrows with the detergent in one hand. 

“You’d go anyway,” Ella said. Thunder crashed outside and the light bulb dimmed. 

“I’m starting to want out of the creepy basement,” Zaria said. 

“There are worse basements than yours, Ree.”

“Uh-huh, you keep saying.” Zaria set the machine on ‘Small’ and poured detergent in. One more wash load would rinse any residual debris out of the washing machine well enough for visual inspection. “So are we laying the skirt out or chancing it in the dryer?”

Ella readjusted her towel. “Laying it out would be best. I think I’ve done enough damage for one night.” 

“Okay, then,” Zaria said, springing upwards. “Sleepover! I have to call Mom and Dad and let them know.” She pursed her lips. “I’ll tell them you got caught in the rain on your bike and had to stop off early.”

“It’s true enough.”

“You got to call your parents?”

Ella shook her head. “They don’t keep tabs on me since I started living on Base.”

“Niiiice. Let me help you set that skirt out.”

“You put some clothes on first, girl,” Ella said, picking a large t-shirt she recognized as one of Zaria’s from the laundry basket. “What if your dad comes home and finds you prancing around the house like that?”

“Pfft, it’s my mother you’ve got to worry about. Dad would just look the other way.” But she took the proffered shirt, giving it a test sniff before yanking it on. “I got your jammies upstairs.”

“Your jammies, you mean,” Ella said, setting up the nylon drying platform to lay out her bell skirt. 

“They’re yours now, girl,” Zaria said, “since you borrow them so much. Hey, if I get to help you whack a fool, can I borrow something of yours? I don’t have any weapons.”

Ella blinked. The concept was unfathomable. But then, she was military. Her whole family was, blood or not. “I could sign you into the shooting range on the Base, if you want. Get a little gun safety and training in.”

“And then the real thing?”

Ella closed her eyes. “I guess.”

“Alright!” Zaria punched the air. Her bun came completely loose, pale blonde hair spilling down her back. “Come on, let’s go call my parents, and then we can have a pillow fight in our underwear.”

“Really, Ree?”

“Or plan your next hit, whatever, it’s all good.”


	16. Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth learned not to bottle up his negative emotions. Then he had to learn how to deal with them.

Sephiroth slumped down on his desk and put his head in his hands. “I can’t take this. I can’t deal.” So many lives at risk, stranded in the spaceport without transport, and the enemy bearing down. 

“This isn’t our area,” Cloud said. “We’ve got to let Aerospace handle it.” If they could. 

“It’s our people up there,” Sephiroth said. “We should have planned for this.”

“You can’t plan for everything.”

“I can try, dammit.” Sephiroth slammed a fist down on the desk, breathing hard. Cloud’s fingers twitched, reaching for a sword. It had been years since he had drawn on the man but the instinct remained. Sephiroth saw it. He sighed and reached down into the bottom drawer of his desk.

Two packs of colored pencils, some fine point markers and a big box of crayons hit the desk, followed by a thick book full of intricate designs. Sephiroth opened up the markers without a word, chose a page. 

“Um…” Cloud scratched his head. “I didn’t realize you were still keeping the kids’ coloring books in there.”

“They finished theirs. These are mine,” Sephiroth snapped, coloring within the lines of a stylized carp with religious fervor. 

Cloud tiptoed a little and leaned in. It was indeed one of those adult coloring books he had seen around. The spaces were too small and intricate for children to handle. Hell, Cloud wasn’t sure he could. 

Sephiroth exhaled and looked up. “Do you want a page? Beats worrying and waiting.”

“Um… yeah, sure.” Cloud took one of the guest chairs.

“Bird or dragon?”

“Uh, bird,” Cloud said, and got a page with a spectacular phoenix.

Ari found them both deep in their work when he burst in, breathless. “Hey, uh, we got emergency evac… sorted…,” he huffed and puffed and hung onto the doorframe. “But I see you guys are busy so I’ll be on my way.”


	17. Ticking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How grown-up Marlene handles harassment.

“Ooooh, girl, your daddy must be a terrorist, because you da bomb, baby!” 

Marlene looked up, rag in her hand. The bar was still a mess, condensation rings over dark stains that had soaked right into the wood, but not as big as the mess staring down at her from the other side. Leering, to be more specific. Marlene went back to wiping, but one foot slid backwards, balancing her weight for a fight. She glanced up again and found the man still staring. 

Big. Tall. Jerky. He had that look. Not one of the regulars for sure, they had watched Marlene grow up. They asked her how university was going. They asked how she handled her classes and the job. The regulars knew better than to harass the staff. But Tifa was meeting with one of her suppliers this afternoon, and Cloud was out on one of his casual matches with Sephiroth. In terms of who was running the joint, there was just the wait staff, and Gary in the back on the grill. Out of the corner of her eye Marlene saw Stella giving her that knowing look. There would be extra back up if she needed it. 

Jerkface leaned over the bar and made a point of looking Marlene up and down and up again. Marlene drew herself up. She straightened her back, slid her other foot into place and glanced into the corners to see who was watching. She looked Jerkface in the eye with a plastic server’s smile pasted on her face. “Need something?”

His eyes roved over her body again. “I think you know what I need, baby.” 

Marlene’s smile grew bigger. She leaned over the bar. “I’m not your baby,” she said. “I’m his.” She gestured to the corner table with a jerk of her head. 

In the light of the window, Barret broke into a broad grin and raised his glass at her with his shiny new cybernetic arm. “That’s my daughter!”

Jerkface straightened up, looking back and forth from the grizzled, armed and clearly dangerous roughneck and the slim young woman who didn’t look a thing like him. “Uh…”

“Yeah, I’m adopted. But you were right about the other thing,” Marlene continued, back to wiping the bar. “He was a terrorist. He ran Avalanche back in the day, you know, when Shinra went down?” She glanced up with a bowed head to catch the moment it clicked. 

Jerkface stepped back. “Um…”

“So it was a Costa Cruise Lager you were after, right? We have it on tap.”

Barret set his glass down on the table with a pointed thump of his arm. Jerkface jumped. Marlene kept her fake smile on her face. The real one inside was so much bigger. “Uh, yeah.” Marlene got a glass out and drew him one that was mostly head. He didn’t dare complain, drinking quickly and leaving a tip that was bigger than the cost of the beer before he hustled out the door. 

Stella popped her gum and watched him go. “What a douche.”

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. I almost want to go shower.”

“Ugh, I know that feeling,” Stella said, gathering up empties. “Good thing you were here, Mr. Wallace.”

“Ain’t no big deal, my baby girl can take care of herself,” Barret said, coming over to hand in his glass and save them both a little work. He ruffled Marlene’s hair, ignoring her squawk. “But if I can keep this little bomb from exploding, I’mma do what I can.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stella said, glancing at the stains on the bar. “We’re still cleaning up from the last time.”


	18. Tomorrow and Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard work getting humans to believe Cetra culture without giving yourself away.

The drive is long and the roads are wet and the sky above is dim. Grey clouds hang like billowed smoke. Both the memory and the promise of lightning leave a flavor in the air. She’s tired, so tired, too tired to be exhilarated by the latest find, the latest proof. Celebration can wait. The victory is too small anyway, just one more thread in the endless weave of a canvas the rest of them cannot see. This is a marathon, not a sprint, proving to humanity the things their blood has long forgotten.  
She hurries indoors ahead of the rain and drags her way up the stairs. The house is quieter than usual today, but she can hear what human ears do not. The Lifestream lives in this house in a way few others can tell. Here the Planet’s song is a choral melody.

She finds them all bundled up in one bed, her gifts to the Lifestream’s flow, girl under wing, the boys sharing an arm, asleep, like their father, with the book atop his chest. He wakes as she approaches, sensing the shift of lifestream in his own isolated ways. “Have a good dig?”

“It was okay,” she says. “Found some carved stories. No one believes my translation yet so I’ll have to correlate them with the codex in the libraries later.”

He nods, understanding. “Show your work.” They sigh together and she sinks to the bed, hovering on the very edge. It is an old fight, generations in the making, a bitter inheritance for hearing, seeing, knowing what others cannot. She is tired. Black feathers brush her arm, an offer of silent comfort.

“What did you read them?” she asks, eye on the leatherbound tome.

“The one about the puppet who wanted to be a real boy.” There is the barest curve to his lips that has nothing to do with children’s stories.

She leans back into the glossy curve of black feathers. The scent of flight still lingers between quills. “Did he get his wish?” she asks, eyes closing.

“Anything’s possible when fairies get involved,” he says, and the way his eyes glow she thinks that he might even believe it. She knows the children do, for now. So easy to believe at this age. Proof and questions can come later. Will come later.

Tomorrow she will return to the institute. She will dig deep in the libraries among the tablets and parchment scrolls. She will use the codices and dictionaries and older translations that carry more weight than her living word. There will be proof. The world will learn what she was born knowing, and be better for it. Tomorrow.

Today, a black wing curls around her, welcoming her forest colors back into her family’s circle of snow. This is her life, one she thought she would never have. Fat drops of rain unite in a wet sheet on the window and the black skies outside flash with light. Tomorrow she will show the world what it forgot. Today she is believed.


	19. Life's a Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Seph does on a family vacation.

Sephiroth slapped a towel over his shoulder, inspected himself in the bathroom mirror and turned to leave. He ended up stalled in the doorway instead, leaning against one side and admiring the view.

Aeris had her back to him, which suited Sephiroth just fine. She had bought a new bathing suit, cherry red and technically a one-piece, which might have been a pity. But the middle of the thing was alternatingly sheer and nothingness, held together by swirling strips of spandex in a fitting floral pattern. She was going to have the most interesting tan lines.

She was working the sunblock into her skin, arms first in long vigorous strokes that just missed her bare shoulders. She would need help for those, and her back, and she always forgot the spot just above the nape of her neck that would get the full brunt of the sun when her hair slid over her bare silken shoulders as she leaned forward in the sand.

“Better put your sunscreen on in here,” she said, never turning. “The sun’s killing out there.”

“In a minute,” Sephiroth said, thanking Gaia his swim trunks were baggy as Aeris bent over to work on her legs. He strode over and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her back against him.

“Seph,” Aeris squealed.

“You missed a spot,” he said, slapping her on the rump.

Aeris scoffed. “Oh, no, I didn’t,” she said, backing up into him in just the right way. “No missing that, Mister.” She straightened, giving him a face full of ponytail and the full body contact to make it worth the while. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hooked his chin over one of those perfect shoulders.

“Know what I’m thinking?” he said, admiring their intertwined reflection in the mirror.

“That you’re going to help me with the rest of my sunscreen?”

Sephiroth grinned and rolled his hips. “I was thinking-“

“Get a room, you two,” Ella hollered, passing by the open door.

Sephiroth tightened his grip around Aeris so she could not move away. Bad as the sight of parents bumping and grinding might be for the kid, he was pretty sure a good look at his boner would be worse. "This is a room," he hollered back.

“Then shut the door. Gaia dammit.” Ella's footsteps hurried down the stairs.

“Language, young lady,” Sephiroth called after her, though she was probably well out of earshot. “Hmph. Kids. Where do they think they came from?”

“The white chocobo brought them, of course,” Aeris said, turning in Sephiroth’s arms. “Ready?”

“To make another kid? Sure.”

“Seph,” Aeris pried one of his hands from her hips. “If we don’t get to the beach soon all the good spots will be taken.”

“I’m hurt,” Sephiroth said. “You don’t want to make any little silver-headed babies with me?”

“We have three.”

“So? The Planet wants more, doesn’t it?” He leaned down, nipping at her jaw.

“The Planet wants a lot of things,” Aeris said, leaning in to the attention. “I’m at my limit.”

“Hmmm.” Sephiroth let his arms fall so Aeris could walk free. She didn’t. “We can still try, right?”

Aeris did walk away then, rolling her eyes at him. “We ‘tried’ this morning. Now come on, before the boys cause a ruckus downstairs.”

“Okay,” Sephiroth said, reaching for the sunblock and the keys. When he turned around Aeris was looking back at him with a hint of speculation in her eyes. “What?”

“We can ‘try’ again after the beach, if you like,” she said, turning with a smile full of promise. Sephiroth followed behind with a smile of his own. He did want to see those tan lines.


	20. Professional Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth's biology means he needs extra-specialized medical care.

“It’s out of our hands. There’s nothing we can do for him.”

“We should notify his family.”

“Word’s been sent to his wife.”

Sephiroth listened to the voices bemoaning the end and closed his eyes against the harsh glare of the overhead light. There was more than enough pain to deal with.

He could barely move. The medics who had dragged him in off the field had set him on his side and he had not twitched since then, not even when the doctors came to poke and prod. Breathing hurt. Pain radiated out from the injury, spreading up and down his back and mixing with that infuriating itch that was his body’s vain attempt to heal itself.

He had refused the drastic measures suggested by the chief surgeon, even though the man had been adamant that refusal could be a grave mistake. Sephiroth felt otherwise. He was still strong and he just had to hold on. She was probably already on her way. She could help.

The floor rocked as an explosion sounded from outside. Sephiroth grunted as the vibration rattled through him, aggravating the wound. He was no stranger to pain, but he had never been injured like this before. On some level he was sure that having his wife flown out into a war zone just because he didn’t like doctors was completely irresponsible. Maybe she would do the sensible thing and send word back for him to stop being an ass and let the doctors do their butchering best.

The distant sounds of battle were interrupted by the rattle of a curtain being pulled aside nearby. “Oh, Sephy!” Aeris hurried over and stroked his face. “Does it hurt badly?”

“Like Hades.” Sephiroth leaned into her touch as much as he could. “I shouldn’t have called you out here anyway. It’s too-“

“Hush, I want to be here.” She made her way up onto the bed and gently set his head on her lap. Sephiroth grimaced a little but settled down without protest.

There was a scuffle beyond the curtain. Two young men scrambled into the space and took a second to assess the situation.

“Aw, shit, Pops, everybody’s talking like you’re dying or something,” the short-haired one scowled.

Sephiroth scowled back. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“That’s a nasty-looking break, Dad,” the other one said quietly as he came over to take a look. “What happened?”

Sephiroth sighed. “I ducked out of the way of one piece of wreckage and got hit by another.” The boys snickered. “It was a big piece!”

“Right, so you break a few bones and then I get this frantic call from the tower, ‘Land your jet and get over to sickbay, your daddy’s in a bad way.’ Dragging me away from my squad for nothing.”

“All right, Ari,” Aeris cut in, “Don’t aggravate your father.”

Ari grinned. “Are you kidding me? This is the best time to do it. Look at him, he can’t move!”

“I will get out of here eventually, young man, and I know where you sleep.”

“You know where his bed is, Dad. Nobody’s really sure where he’ll sleep.”

Sephiroth grunted and let Aeris keep stroking the hair back from his face. A sudden prod brought back all the pain he had forgotten. “Ow! Rei, what are you doing back there?”

“Sorry.” The long-haired one stepped back and held his hands up and away even though Sephiroth could not turn around to see him. “Things are a real mess back here. This is all from something landing on you?”

“Well, it sort of knocked me down a hill,” Sephiroth growled. “Bent a few things the wrong way.”

“Oh.” Rei took another look at the mass of mangled bone and singed feathers. “Well, yeah, that would probably do it. Good thing you don’t really need your wing to fly.”

“How come it’s not healing by itself?” Ari asked.

“It’s been trying, but the bones are all out of place. Everything’s too torn for me to do it on my own and materia didn’t help much.”

Aeris pulled a feather out of Sephiroth’s hair. “The doctors couldn’t help?”

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. “They’re clueless. They don’t know how to set a broken wing. Rei, you think maybe you could…”

Rei made as if to touch the battered appendage again but drew back. “Sorry, Dad. We don’t really cover wings in anatomy class.”

“So I’m stuck like this?” Sephiroth groaned. Aeris stroked his head tenderly so he groaned some more, milking it for all it was worth.

“There’s got to be something the doctors can do, right?” Ari took a look around the curtain to see if there was anyone nearby to consult with.

“They wanted to amputate!” Sephiroth yelled and slumped back down into Aeris’ lap when the pain shot up his spine. He glanced up at his wife. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, love, but… you know.” He liked his wing, after all.

Aeris smirked down at him. “Yes, dear, I understand.” She kept stroking his hair and looked up at their sons.

“Ari, I’ll get everything under control here. I’m sure your squadron needs you more than we do at the moment.”

“Sure thing. Let me know how it goes.” He left with a wave.

“Rei, see if you can round up some stronger painkillers, maybe a tranquilizer or two if anyone can spare it and hand me my purse before you go.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Once the kids were out of the way, Aeris began digging through her purse for her phone. “Just hang in there, Seph. I’ll see if we can get someone out here who can really help.”

“Good,” Sephiroth murmured. “Who are you calling?”

“Dr. Cressler.”

Sephiroth’s eyes shot open as the name sank in. “The VET?”


	21. Old Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to take care of a senior pet.

“How’s his appetite been? Is he off his food?”

“Hardly. He’s always nosing around for more.”

“Any shedding?”

“Just all over the couch and carpet, as usual.”

“Well, that’s expected with the long-haired breeds. He is getting enough exercise, I hope, with that appetite of his. Weight gain wouldn’t be good for his joints at this age.”

“He’s not as active as before but I think he’s doing okay. No weight gain. Yet.”

“That’s good. I think I’m all wrapped up here. Give him painkillers when necessary and mind he doesn’t gnaw the bandages off.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Cressler. Boys, come show the lady out and keep her away from the action outside for me, please.”

Sephiroth growled slightly as the woman left the tent. “You girls had your fun?”

“Aw, was that too much for you, dear?” Aeris stroked his hair.

“A bit.” Sephiroth gingerly tested his injured appendage.

“So you don’t want to be my cuddly old doggy? I’d let you lounge all over the couch, or bed down by the fire, plus I’d pet you anytime you wanted and give you treats.”

“Treats, eh?” Sephiroth arched one silver eyebrow.

“Sure. Hey, I won’t even complain if you wanted to sniff my butt or hump my leg.”

“Hmph, I suppose I could live with it, then,” Sephiroth said, shaking his bandaged and splinted wing, “just so long as the only part of me you’re getting fixed is this.”


	22. With Great Gratitude

Sephiroth hoisted his basket and walked out onto the bluff. He stared at the small marker in the distance and the view beyond it. It was a great place for an ending.

A car screeched to a halt behind him. Sephiroth didn't need to turn around to know how Cloud stumbled out. “What do you think you're doing, Sephiroth?”

Sephiroth scowled. “What does it look like, Cloud? I'm paying my respects.” Sephiroth adjusted his grip on the basket. “He was my friend too.”

“Oh.” Cloud stopped short. “So you're not about to embark on some murderous rampage then?”

“Why is that always your first guess?” Sephiroth huffed.

“It's just experience talking.”

“Hn.”

Cloud sheathed his sword and stepped closer. “So what's the deal? Aerith called Tifa and said you'd run out of the house.”

Sephiroth stared at the old Buster sword and sighed. It carried the memory of two friends for him. “It's just... the holiday, you know.” Sephiroth walked up to the sword and set the basket down in front of it. “He tried to get me to share in the festivities. I never really understood why at the time.” Angeal had tried too, but Sephiroth didn't mention that. “It's a day to be thankful, right? Well, I'm thankful for what he did. It gave me what I have now, if in a roundabout fashion.”

Cloud snorted. “Yeah, getting shot up so you can move in on his girl, now that's a pal.”

“I TOLD you-” Sephiroth shook his head and bit off the rest. It was an old saw between them. Cloud chuckled.

“So, should I just be leaving you to commune with the spirits now or something?”

Sephiroth shrugged. “You might as well stay. I packed a ham.”

Cloud blinked. “A ham?”

Sephiroth nodded. “Honey baked, spiral cut. Zack's favorite?”

“You packed a ham?”

“Your ears bothering you, Cloud? Yes, a ham. And fresh whole grain bread. I can't eat it all by myself.”

Cloud looked suspicious.“You can't?”

“Well, I shouldn't,” Sephiroth clarified.

Cloud thought it over. “You came all this way to eat ham?”

“Why not? Zack can't eat it himself so maybe we could do it for him.”

The man had a point, Cloud admitted, and under the cloth in that basket, the ham was smelling divine. Tifa had recruited all the kitchen help she needed. The boys knew their way around the inside of a turkey better than he ever would, so really, it was like he was doing them a favor, staying out of the kitchen until the bird was out of the oven. “Yeah, what the hell. Got a knife?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Mom? We found 'em.” Ari peered over the boulder for a second. “No, they're not breaking things. Actually, I'm not sure what they're doing.”

“They're eating ham,” Rei said. “Can you smell it?”

“Oh, Mom, Rei says they're eating ham.” Ari listened for a moment. “Dad did buy more than one ham, right? I'm sure we've got another one around.”

Rei sat beside him and sniffed the air delicately. “Honey baked,” he murmured.

“Uh, no, I don't know when you should take the turkey out.”

“Spiral cut,” Rei said, “fourteen pounds.”

Ari glanced askance at his brother. “You can smell all that?”

Rei blinked. “You can't?”

Ari sighed. “No, Mom, everything's okay. Rei's just being weird again.”

“Smell's making me hungry,” Rei said, dejected.

“But it's ham, veggie boy.” Ari frowned. “What the hell kind of herbivore are you? No, Mom, we're not fighting. Okay, okay, I'll give him the phone.” He held the cell out to his younger twin. “Here.”

“Hi, Mom,” Rei said. “No, we're not fighting. My tofurkey's ready, right? Good. Um, Dad? Uh, he's eating ham with Uncle Cloud just like Ari said.” Rei listened for a while. “Did you check the meat thermometer?”

Ari sighed. “We're having drive-through fried chicken again, aren't we?”

“Uh, Mom,” Rei said, peeking around the boulder again. He frowned. “Are you sure he didn't set a timer anywhere? No, leave the stuffing alone, you know how Ella's picky about that. Yeah... uh-huh... okay, I'm handing it over now.” He passed the phone back.

“Yo, woman, snap it up, you're burning my minutes,” Ari kvetched, shouldering a punch from Rei for talking to their mother like that. “Okay, okay, we'll keep an eye on them. Seriously, we can do this, Mom. Yeah, we won't let them hospitalize each other this time. Okay, love ya, bye!” He snapped the phone shut and sighed. “So, any signs of impending apocalypse yet?”

“They're making more sandwiches,” Rei said helpfully.

“Great.” Ari's voice was dripping sarcasm. Then he brightened. “Fourteen pound ham, two ex-SOLDIERs. Hey, brainiac, how long do you figure it'll take them to finish?” Rei ignored him.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Sephiroth and Cloud stretched themselves out full length on the escarpment, staring up at the great blue sky.

“I'm thirsty,” Cloud said.

“Ham'll do that,” Sephiroth said, half an inch away from sleep. They'd finished most of the ham together, running out of bread halfway and just cutting strips from the bone near the end. They made sure to leave a goodly portion for Zack's sake. To honor his spirit, they said, or because they just couldn't eat anymore.

“Didja pack anything to drink?” Cloud asked.

“No.”

Cloud sighed. “Good cook, lousy host.”

“Great cook,” Sephiroth corrected, kicking Cloud in the ankle. “Lousy host. Don't you keep a cooler in your trunk?”

“Eh,” Cloud scowled. “Cid got to it last week. There's nothing in there but some really old whiskey Reeve gave me.”

Sephiroth sat up. “Well, why not go get it?”

“Oh, hell, no!” Cloud shot up. “When you get drunk you start hitting on me!”

"So? When you get drunk you don't mind.”

There was silence as they both thought of the things they had agreed to never speak of again. “Ah, why not?” Cloud conceded. “For Zack.”

Sephiroth nodded. “For Zack.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Once, on a test flight, Ari had flown his craft through a flock of migrating swallows. Bloody stupid accident, really, no one's fault. He'd wobbled the light craft safely by all but one of them. The poor brown thing had met Ari's eyes with a look of innocent bewilderment in the split second before it collided with the windshield. It was a look Ari would never forget. It was the look Rei wore now.

“Rei?” Ari asked carefully, bracing for the bomb.

Rei turned to him, white as a sheet. “They brought alcohol.”

“Aw, shit.” Ari drew his guns.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Hey, Seph?” Cloud's words were slow but very carefully enunciated. Sephiroth slurred when drugged, not drunk, so damned if Cloud showed up any worse. “You're bisexual, right?”

“Pfft,” Sephiroth scoffed. “What tipped you off, blondie?”

“Well, you know,” Cloud said, “You're kinda bruising my buns at the moment.”

“Oh.” Sephiroth carefully removed his hand. “That was an accident.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“It was!”

“Oh, I believe you.”

“... You're a pervert, Cloud.”

Cloud hauled himself upright. “Me? You're the one feeling me up.”

“That was an accident. You're dirty for thinking... what you're thinking... here on a good man's grave.”

“s'not a grave,” Cloud insisted. “Nobody's buried here.”

“Why not?”

Cloud slapped the ground. “Cuz it's frickin' rock. Can't dig this.”

“Oh.” Sephiroth frowned. “Where'd he go then?”

“Dunno,” Cloud said. “I came back looking soon as I remembered. Didn't find even a tooth.”

Sephiroth rubbed his nose against his sleeve. “I miss him,” he blurted out.

“Me too.” Cloud slumped. Both men sighed. Cloud looked over. “Want a hug?”

Sephiroth blinked slowly. “Yeah.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Oh man.” Ari sank back to the hiding spot behind the boulder. “Rei, scan for papparazzi.”

“All clear,” Rei said. “They're not doing that thing with the pole again, are they?”

“No, no audience this time.”

“Okay.” Rei whipped out his phone. “Think Mom'll want pictures?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ella set the roasting pan down gently on the heat-resistant countertop just as Aerith wandered back into the kitchen for another round of fretting. “Ella, what are you doing?”

“Turkey's done.”

“How do you know?”

“Dad told me when to check it before he left.” Ella set a heat shield over the bird and watched Ocean stirring the yams. She'd already made the dressing for the salad, the rolls were in their basket and there was butter melting into the mashed potatoes. Minor touches all, but for the bird.

“Did he tell you what time he was coming back?”

Ocean turned from the pot. “You know him. He'll be back when he's back.”

“Now what kind of answer is that?”

Ella turned. “Relax. We told Rei and Ari to drag him home by five if he's being difficult.”

“Dinner'll be cold.”

Ella shrugged. “Heating things up is never a problem in this house, is it?” Ocean snickered.

Aerith shrugged and took a seat near the cheese plate so she could pick at the brie. “I guess not. Oh, message!” She flipped her phone open. It was a picture this time.

Ella and Ocean slid around to look over her shoulder. “They're not doing that thing with the pole, are they?”

“Doesn't look so.” Aerith tilted the phone for a better view since the pair were poorly framed. “They're not fighting. Hm, look at that. Got to keep this one on file.”

“Definitely!” Ocean grinned.

Ella took one look and turned away. “Gaia, woman. Nobody needs to see softcore with their father in it.”

Aerith smirked and went back to staring at her new phone wallpaper. There was plenty to be thankful for today.

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Alright, old man, wrap it up and get back in the car. Dinner's waiting.” Ari stepped out from behind the rock.

Sephiroth looked up hazily. “What're you doing here?”

“The usual,” Ari said, “making sure you don't break anything. Now come on, we need you to carve the turkey and NOT with the masamune.”

“Aww,” Sephiroth whined, still hazy and lazy.

“You too, Uncle Cloud,” Rei said. “Where are your keys? I'll take you to the base. Zack said he'd pick you up there.”

Cloud gave them a confused stare. “How can Zack pick me up? He's in the Lifestream.”

Sephiroth snorted. “Not that Zack, Cloud, the other one, your kid?”

“Oh, yeah.” Cloud scratched his head. “Forgot about him.”

Sephiroth grinned. “What's new, Cloud?”

“You two coming?” Ari tapped his foot. “No disrespect to fallen comrades of yesteryear, and we're grateful he kept you from rolling down the hill and all, but the living have to eat and dinner's getting cold.”

“Okay, okay, I'm coming.” Sephiroth hauled himself up and dusted himself down. Cloud did the same beside him. They turned for one last look at the reason they were here. “Happy Holidays, Zack,” Sephiroth said quietly.

“Yeah.” Cloud echoed. “And thanks.”

They let themselves be escorted away and left the ham bone behind them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Thanks, you guys!” Zack waved even though he knew they couldn't see him.

“Puppy, is that ham you're eating?”

“Yep. Spirit offering. Want some?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“No biggie. Half of it's yours anyway.”

“... I see. Thanks for sharing, pup.”

“No problem, Angeal.”


	23. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The perks of daddy-daughter bonding.

There was a tea party in the second upstairs bedroom of the villa. There were big hats and feather boas all around the child-sized table and its little matching chairs. The cookies were frosted, or chocolate-dipped. The mini-cakes were layered, multi-colored, and dripping ganache. There was sugar _and_ honey for the tea, and two flavors of creamer in addition to actual cream.

“Um….” Cloud stood in the doorway, scratching his head. 

“Join the party, Spike,” Barret said, gesturing to the third chair. He sat on the beanbag himself now, after what had happened with chair number four. “We’ve got plenty to go around.”

Cloud turned his head sideways, watching the proceedings. “Cream and sugar?” Sephiroth asked, pouring tea.

“Oh, just a splash,” Cid said. “But no sugar, I’m trying to cut back.”

Cloud scratched his head again. “What are you all doing?”

Sephiroth shared a look with Cid. “We’re playing tea party, Cloud. I would think it was obvious.”

“Eh, Spike doesn’t get it,” Barret said, leaning forward to take his plate full of cake. “No daughters, you know. Marlene went through her tea party stage with Tifa and me.”

“Mm,” Cid agreed, sipping tea. “Shame. He’s missing out.”

Cloud folded his arms. “Your daughters,” he said, “are all outside practicing archery with Marlene's old set.”

The look went around the table again. Eventually Sephiroth spoke. “So?”

“Sit ya ass down, Spike,” Barret said.

Cid tapped the free chair. “Yeah. Drink some goddamn tea.”


	24. Nudes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The General has a collection.

There’s a story on the base, a widespread mix of rumor and assumption, that whenever you see the General staring at his phone and wearing a certain little smile, he’s looking at pictures of his wife.

He has a whole collection of these pics, a timeline of her beauty down the years. He keeps them in a particular folder for quiet times and stressful days. Don’t interrupt the man when he’s got that smile and for the love of Holy, don’t try to glance over his shoulder. The pics are nudes and for his eyes only.

There’s some truth to the tales. Sephiroth does have a folder. It is full of pics, and they are of his wife, and she was naked when he took them. But, unknown to all but the accidental few, Aeris is a blanket burrito in every single one of them.


	25. Sugar Plums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth attends his first ballet recital.

“Here.”

“What’s this?”

“A tie, Seph.”

“I have to wear a tie?” Sephiroth scowled down at the thing. 

“It _is_ the ballet, Seph,” Aeris said, hanging on to the door to cram on a shoe. “Make some effort.”

“See, this is why I never bothered with ballet in Midgar,” Sephiroth groaned and went to the mirror, angling his neck for more room. “We’re taking the camera, right? The good one?”

“Of course.” Aeris shuffled to the bed for a seat and leaned over to get the straps on her shoes. “Dammit, I can’t see the holes.”

“Hang on.” Sephiroth gave his tie a last touch and slid to the floor. He concentrated a bit, lining up tiny gold buckles with the slender straps. “Why did we buy the heels with three buckles a side again?”

“You thought they were sexy,” Aeris said, smoothing his hair.

“Oh, _I_ thought,” he said. “That’s convenient.”

“It’s your thing, not mine, sweetums,” Aeris said, thwapping him on the ear. He sat back and she rose, taking a step and a half twirl to the side. Sephiroth’s eyes did not leave her feet. Aeris crossed her arms at him. “You were saying?”

“Hm? Oh, the camera, right.” Sephiroth pocketed the thing off the dresser. At the sight of Aeris balancing in the doorway again, one foot up to adjust the spread of the straps over her skin, he almost pulled it out again. But the light was wrong, and they had to go.

oOo

“If that jackass doesn’t sit down, I’m going to pop him one,” Sephiroth murmured.

“No, you won’t,” Aeris said. “You’re going to sit down and behave yourself.”

“He’s not behaving,” Sephiroth said, scowling at the cardigan-clad back. “And he’s in a sweater. I dressed up for nothing.”

Aeris rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. “Down in front!” she hollered, and a few other people joined in.

“Yeah, Carl.”

“Sit your fat butt down.”

‘Carl’ got yanked back into his seat by his redfaced companion in time for the faux velvet drapes to open on a perfect little rainbow. 

“Oh, Gaia, Seph,” Aeris said, voice fluttering. “Turn the camera on.”

“It’s on, it’s on,” he said. He checked the light and framed the stage within the viewscreen, glancing up as the delicate music began. 

Ella was third from the end, two from the center, hitting all her marks and cues. The rainbow row ran in a circle around the stage before spreading into a line again. Ella twirled around and the little dark blue skirt whirled around her. Red and Orange wobbled out of place as they spun, and Green, a boy, bumped into Yellow and got a stinkeye for it, but Ella didn’t budge one inch off her mark. “See our girl? Steady as a rock.” Sephiroth said. “That’s the mako.”

“The hell it is,” Aeris said, grinning ear to ear. 

Alternating colors went down in the splits, some with more success than others. “Mako,” Sephiroth sang. 

“In a pig’s ear,” Aeris said and poked him in the ribs.

“Don’t shake,” he hissed, “you’ll ruin the video.”

The rainbow was up and running in a circle again, this time in the opposite direction, and then came a series of pretty kicks and fancy foot movement. Most of them got most of the moves mostly in time and that was as much as anyone could ask of them. 

Then Orange threw a shoe. It flew off her foot and went sailing in a shallow arc over Yellow, Green and Ella to smack Purple right in the side of the head. Purple, to his credit, shook it off and kept on dancing. 

“Oh, Wutai discipline,” Sephiroth said. “Nice.” But not everyone took the same approach.

“The hell is your kid trying to do, Carl?”

“Hey, accidents happen,” Carl said. 

“Accidents my foot, your girl tossed her nasty shoe at my boy’s head.”

“Uh oh,” Aeris said, “Dance dads.”

“I don’t behave like that,” Sephiroth said, one eye on the camera and the other on the crowd. 

“Only because you already scare everybody.”

Things were looking to get heated, with Carl and Purple’s Dad leaning over rows at each other, and cries all around to ‘shush’ and ‘stop acting like children, the kids are watching.’ And then the orange shoe came flying again.

“Duck, Carl,” Sephiroth said, and Carl, for all his bulk, managed just in time. There were short squeals and a general flow of motion away from the epicenter. The soft, elastic shoe ricocheted off Purple's Dad's chair and hit the floor. 

All eyes turned to the stage. The music kept playing but the rainbow had stopped dancing, standing in one line, some with arms crossed. Ella’s arms hung loose at her side. Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at her, and from the distance, she raised one back. She glanced sidelong at Purple, who was sulking at the crowd.

“Can we finish our dance now?” he said. The rest of the rainbow nodded and yeahed, and a bunch of cowed adults took their seats and waited for the music to back up a bit and start again. 

The dance teacher bit her knuckles from the empty orchestra pit and directed them into the next steps a little too loudly. They all started at different places but came together soon enough, Orange bravely sallying forth with her one shoe, Ella and Pink dancing in perfect step together even with distance between them. 

They bowed when it was over, Green a little too low, and Ella not low enough, keeping her eyes on the crowd. The applause was thunderous and the camera couldn’t catch the stage for all the parental backs blocking the view. Their teacher turned and gave a little bow right where she was with more grimace than smile, looking positively stricken. 

Sephiroth clapped so hard he nearly dropped the camera, and wondered how much wild shaking and hollering the thing had caught before he remembered to turn it off. They waited for most of the crowd to clear, and Ella came running to them, little grey jacket over her blue skirt and tights. 

“I’m ready,” she said. 

“Don’t you want to say ‘goodbye’ to your friends?” Aeris asked. 

Ella rolled her eyes. “That was backstage.”

Sephiroth shrugged. He set one arm around his wife and watched Ella skipping ahead towards the parking lot. “So,” Aeris said, “how was your first ballet recital?”

“Hair-raising,” he said. “This professional dance world is some cut-throat business. Are we sure this is a good environment for a child?”

“It’ll be fine, Seph, I’m sure this was a one-time thing.”

“With these stage parents? Sure, it was,” Sephiroth said, checking the wobbly playback on the camera. 

“What, you don’t want to go to more recitals?” Aeris asked. 

“Oh, I’ll go back,” Sephiroth said, shaking his head at the replaying scene. “But no tie. Next time I’m wearing riot gear.”


	26. Nemesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One-Winged Angel faces a terrible foe - his children's math homework.

The house was quiet. The sun was going down. Sephiroth stood at the foot of the stairs and listened. The keyboard was clicking nonstop in Ella’s room, the paper she kept mentioning growing by yards. There was barely a peep from the rooms across the hall. Homework was progressing properly. All was well. He made himself a cup of tea and hiked off to his home office to take care of some homework of his own.

He was ten minutes into a report on the progress of the aerial defence system in Corel when he heard the feet by the door. “What’s up?” he asked before the kids could knock. Ari came in first, holding up a textbook bigger than any book had a right to be. Rei came in after, with notebooks and a pen. 

“We need some help with homework,” Ari said, dropping the book down. Sephiroth’s old desk wobbled under the weight. “We tried working it out over and over but we don’t understand.”

There was a drawing of a protractor on the cover, and a compass. Sephiroth inched away. “It’s here,” Rei said, “Number four.”

The inch turned into a full attempt to launch himself through the skinny window, thwarted by the chair casters getting caught on the edge of the rug. Sephiroth sat with his legs stretched out in a full push, hoping nobody would figure it out. He cleared his throat and drew his limbs in. “What is this, exactly?” 

Rei sighed. Ari tapped his foot. “We call it trigonometry, Dad.”

“Trigonometry, eh?” Sephiroth said. He stared at the devil’s language on the page then took up his tea to hide the anguish on his face. Over the rim of the mug he could just see the boys sharing one of their very meaningful twin looks. He swallowed two tiny sips, mindful of choking if he tried anything bigger, and looked down at the page again. “What’s ‘cot’?”

“You mean a cotangent?” Rei asked.

“What’s a cotangent?” 

The twin look was back. Rei cleared his throat. “You know what a tangent is?”

Sephiroth pushed his glasses back into place. “I believe I may have heard of such a thing.”

Ari crossed his arms. “Do you know what numbers are?”

Sephiroth rolled his chair back to take in the whole of the kid. The adolescent scorn was strong in that one. “We do, on occasion, have a passing acquaintance with numerals in the military, young man.” He went for the triumphant sip of tea and ended up gulping instead. He hunched over and set the thing down on the table. “But it's been years since I had to use any of this. The truth is in my case the math rarely goes beyond basics.”

Rei tilted his head. “How basic?” The tips of his hair brushed the floor.

Sephiroth looked up. “Add, subtract, multiply, divide. And the numbers tend to have lots of zeroes on the end. Makes things simple.” He looked up at them both. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Seriously, how did you pass any test, like, ever?” Ari said. 

“I made it up in the practical portion,” Sephiroth said, turning his mug around and around. There was more wordless communique between the boys. Sephiroth would not even bother trying anymore to translate the meaning. There was probably some Cetran stuff mixed in and he had as much hope of understanding that as he did of helping his kids with math. “So, what are you supposed to do with a cotangent, exactly?”

“Beats the shit out of me,” Ari said. “What the hell do we do with any of the stuff we’re learning in school?”

“One gil in the swear jar, young man,” Sephiroth said, “and you learn this stuff at this stage so you can go learn the stuff you’re actually interested in at a later stage, and not end up a one-trick chocobo like your old man.”

Ari scoffed. “I’d rather do what you were doing.”

Sephiroth sat up. “Fighting a pointless war?”

“ _This_ war’s not pointless,” Ari said, scuffing his feet on the rug. “And at least it would be doing something useful.”

Sephiroth sank into his chair. There was no point in lecturing. There were some things the young would not learn except by experience. “You don’t need to worry about being useful just yet,” he said, “and if it’s purpose you’re after, you can try doing something like your mother does instead. Look at her, living the life.” He frowned. “Speaking of which, don’t you usually ask her for help with math?”

“We would, but she’s not back from her dig yet,” said Ari.

“And she’ll be tired when she gets in,” Rei said.

Sephiroth glanced at his screen clock. It was a little past the usual hour, but not time to start inquiring about weather and transport delays. The message light on his phone was off, but then the phone signal could still be sketchy out on some of those dig sites. He would give it some time. 

“I wish I could help you boys, but maybe you’d be better off hitting the group chat and consulting with your friends for this one.”

Rei leaned against the wall. “We’re not supposed to collaborate with classmates.”

“Really,” Sephiroth said. 

“We’re pushing it already sharing the one textbook,” Ari said. 

Sephiroth glanced aside. “Would your teacher even know?” 

“Dad?” Rei said, tilting his head the other way, “are you encouraging us to cheat?”

Sephiroth cleared his throat and stared down into the depths of his mug. “The ‘education’ I was receiving at your age was to do what works.”

They were talking in eyeball language again, and Sephiroth knew it was about him. “Yeah, okay,” Ari said. “Tell you what, we’ll wait for Mom, and we’ll maybe do our history homework in the meantime, ‘kay?”

“That’s probably best,” Sephiroth said, watching them go. He waited till they were out the door before he turned on his phone. ‘Everything ok?’ he texted as the boys left. He set the phone down, eyes flicking to the light every two seconds.

oOo

“Sometimes I worry about Dad,” Rei said. “Like he just can’t grasp the concept of ‘proper’.”

“He got no moral fiber, that’s what,” Ari said. “Think we should go on the class chat though? I’m sure other people are already there.”

“Ari…” Rei warned.

“Not the official one,” Ari said, “they track that.”

“Hey, green beans,” Ella called from the top of the stairs. “I heard you need help with trig.”

“Yeah, but we’re not supposed to collaborate,” Rei said. 

“With classmates,” Ari said, giving him an elbow in the ribs.

“Right,” Ella said, “And I’m not your classmate.”

Rei hung back. "Weren't you working on a paper?"

"I'm sick of words," she said. "Bring that book here."

“Cool,” Ari said, heading up the stairs.

“Uh-uh,” Ella said, “You put your gil in the swear jar before you forget.”

“Aww, man.”

oOo

Sephiroth felt the vibration through the desk before the message tone sounded. ‘slight delay with luggage,’ the phone read, ‘in cab now.’ He was only halfway through a sigh when the phone vibrated again. ‘Everything ok?’

‘I am a terrible role model,’ he texted back, ‘and I can’t math.’

‘Yes, I know,’ came the next message. ‘That’s y u have me.’


	27. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth inches into a new stage of life.

The thing that sounded like a baby crying turned out to be just that. Sephiroth paused in his office doorway and watched the new secretary trying hard to hush the kid.

  
“Come on,” she was saying, “I fed you, you don’t need changing. What do you want?” She waved a plush toy in front of the kid, probably a boy going by all the blue, and jittered in place. “Where is your father?”

“Need me to run some deadbeat down with a shotgun?” Sephiroth said. “I’m not the best shot but I suppose we don’t actually want to hit him.” The woman jumped and shrank back with the toy against her chest. “At ease, soldier,” Sephiroth said, striding over.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said, snapping to attention instead. The child continued to wail. “My husband was supposed to have him today, but the duty roster got rearranged and there’s-“

“A chocobo pox outbreak in the daycare,” Sephiroth said, nodding. “I heard about that. Hang on a sec.” He knelt at the desk, bringing himself down to the baby’s eye level. “Hey there, little guy. What’s up?”

The cries hushed. The child blinked at the stranger before him and looked up at his mother for reassurance. “Uh,” she began, “How are you doing that?”

Sephiroth spared her a glance. “It’s the eyes,” he said, staring at the child. “And the hair. They like shiny things at this age.” He held his hands up and glanced at the boy’s mother. “May I?”

“Um, sure,” she said. He reached his hands around the little boy and scooped him up out of the seat.

“There we go, I got you,” Sephiroth said, settling the kid in both arms. “Looks like Mother’s feeding you well. Gaea, he’s heavy.”

“Nine and a half pounds at birth,” she said.

“Nine and a-?” Sephiroth turned and glanced the secretary up and down. “You pushed all that out?”

She coughed. “Yessir, somehow.”

“Good grief,” Sephiroth said, and bounced the child a little. “Now you really have to stop giving your mother trouble.” The child gurgled and shoved a fist in his mouth. “Hey, hey, don’t eat my hair. Grow your own.”

“Were yours not that big, Sir?”

Sephiroth glanced at the woman’s nametag. ‘Perkins, G.’, it read. “They were all in the seven pound range,” he said, rubbing the child’s back. “I still don’t know how the wife did it, and I was in the room when she did.” He shook his head. “They grow up so fast. This your first?”

“He’s my only, Sir,” Perkins said. “I’m not doing this again.”

“Wouldn’t blame you. I hear they only get bigger after the first one. What’s his name?”

“Jian. For my father.”

“Jian Perkins, eh?” Sephiroth looked back down at the boy. If there was any throwback to Wutai ancestry, it wasn’t too apparent yet on that chubby face. He stole a glance at Mama Perkins. She looked just old enough to have been born when intercontinental marriage was common enough not to matter anymore. The long years stretched behind him and he considered for the first time that there might not be as many in front.

A baby fist thumped against his collar bone. “Oh, look,” he whispered. “He’s asleep.” He eased his way to the chair and lowered the child into it. He stepped away, making not the slightest sound against the floor.

“It’s okay if you need to bring him up,” he said to Perkins, G. “It’s nothing I’m not used to.”

“Are you sure, Sir?”

Sephiroth nodded. “Practicing for future grandkids.”

Perkins grinned. “Yes, Sir.”


End file.
